


Hollow words

by OnionwithLayers



Category: The Letter for the King (TV)
Genre: Fluff, I don't get computers, If this goes wrong I blame them, M/M, Slow Build, but the storyline is different, has connections to the series plot, no one dies, probably more showing up later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23576050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnionwithLayers/pseuds/OnionwithLayers
Summary: It was dark out, the looming presence of the trees blocked out any starlight. The moon hadn’t had the decency to stick around either, and opted shying away behind the only cloud in the sky instead. Occasionally the wind blew in fragments of a conversation around a campfire.
Relationships: Foldo/Jussipo (The Letter for the King)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 80





	1. Food for fire

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of these characters.  
> And as much as I like reading in English, it is not my first language. Feel free to point out mistakes!

Clear night, the stars were gleaming  
Fools at camp, shook heads with feeling  
Because Jussipo, their king, was sent out to-  
Because Jussipo, their king, was-

‘Was sent out to collect firewood’ did not have as much gusto as, say, ‘raging into battle in the name of the queen’, or ‘taken captured’, or even ‘bravely scouting ahead to check any potential threats’. 

It didn’t matter, it wouldn’t have rhymed anyway.

Jussipo really needed to get into some action, to be saved from this damned writers block. Seemed all the action he got these days was gazing at a horse’s backside while it was having a shit.  
He’d been excited at the opportunity of an honest to God quest, thinking of all the epic song material it would give him. But since the group set out yesterday morning all they’d done was riding in a neat line, searching for the scarce clues of Tiuri’s whereabouts. For hours on end.  
Of course it would do him good to keep his motivation in mind. Becoming a knight was worth hours of the same stinking, hairy view. Still, the assignment, given to them by Arman’s father, had a rather shifty feel to it. Why send out four teenagers to do the job of grey riders? And behind the queens back no doubt. Who had ever become a knight without the queen knowing of it?

Clear night, the stars were gleaming  
Gazing at them, with feeling  
Was the famous Jussipo, who-  
who-

Why bother.

With a discontent sigh Jussipo resumed his noble deed of gathering dead pieces of wood.

It was dark out. The looming presence of the trees blocked out any starlight. The moon hadn’t had the decency to stick around either, and opted shying away behind the only cloud in the sky instead. Occasionally the wind blew in fragments of a conversation around a campfire. The forest itself kept creaking like an old cottage door opening and closing. It made him think of stories about witches, lying in wait to snatch children.

Jussipo dusted off a spider-web covered bough and added it to the pile against his chest.  
This was only the second day of their journey to capture Tiuri, and Jussipo was already cold to the bone, covered in dirt and his hair was a tangled mess. That boy truly knew how to ruin everything.  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw something dart away. Here he was, in the dark, all alone. The forest deprived of any colour, black spots called bushes rustling in the wind.  
Jussipo wasn’t scared of these things, but he might as well be annoyed a great deal by them. He made sure to keep his right hand free, in case he needed it.  
Somewhere to his left a branch snapped. An owl hooted.  
Very annoyed indeed.  
Jussipo hurried along, how was he supposed to find any wood in this darkness anyway?  
The wind picked up. Any star still visible now disappeared in the movement of the trees. The rustling of leaves reached deafening levels. Jussipo tried to navigate by the feel of moss under his boots.  
He stumbled on a stone and dropped his branches.  
Another creak.  
Unmistakable noises of a large figure behind him. Jussipo slowly moved his hand towards his rapier.

“Jussipo?”

With a breath Jussipo let his shoulders relax.  
“Foldo!” he cleared his throat, “Fol, my man. Great to see you here. Nice weather, isn’t it? Not too cold, not too warm. Perfect weather to creep up on people, so to speak. Good thing there aren’t any dubious figures hanging around in the bushes.”  
Foldo blinked at him.  
“I’m sorry, did I,” he said “I mean, not that you would be, or are easily, but-”  
“You know, your name fits you fair Foldo. Sometimes you really fold yourself up into something small and invisible.”  
“-right. Scared.”  
Jussipo straightened himself, gripping a tree for support. “I’m never scared.”  
It was too dark to be certain, but Jussipo thought he could see a quick glimmer of teeth.  
“Of course, you’re too busy trying to be poetic.”  
Foldo moved over to collect the scattered branches. Jussipo joined in.  
“What are you doing here?”  
Foldo shrugged. “I came to see if you needed any help.”  
“Our noble Foldo,” Jussipo tried to grasp his chest dramatically and instead slammed a bough against his shoulder “saving fellow soon-to-be knights from tedious chores.”  
“But if you’re doing fine by yourself, I shouldn’t get in your way.”  
Foldo deposited his branches into Jussipo’s arms and started walking, Jussipo scrambled to get the remaining branches and hurried after him.  
“Come on, let’s find ourselves more fuel.”

Clear night, the stars were gleaming  
Young Foldo’s smile was beaming  
Enough food for a fire to last the night.


	2. On the road

At day the forest didn’t look any brighter.  
The wind of the night before had gathered a nice collection of clouds, which turned everything into a gloomy grey. The air was wet. No rain yet, but this much humidity couldn’t be good for the lute.

They were back into their neat line of horses. No one had spoken since Iona, now at the front, had mouthily battled her position as leader with Arman. Having lost, Arman’s new purpose in life now consisted of moodily staring at Iona’s back, sighing pointedly and occasionally scoffing at where they were headed.  
The viciousness of the argument, and the tense silence thereafter, probably had to do with the ungodly hour they had got up that morning. Roused by Iona, they’d packed up and were back on the road in mere seconds. The sun itself probably wasn’t even fully awake yet.  
Normally Jussipo would’ve lightened the mood by playing, but he was terrified one of the strings might snap. If not from the humidity, then from tension.

He chanced a glance backwards to Foldo, whose shoulders were either drawn up in stress or cold. He seemed preoccupied with scanning the bushes.  
The forest occasionally reminded them they were in nature’s territory by letting ducks, blackbirds and squirrels cross their path. When that happened Foldo always stopped, so they could pass unharmed. Jussipo had, at one point, pretended he wanted to shoot one of them for lunch. His expression had been priceless.

But of course he had soon resumed his duty of scanning for clues. He was mature after all.

The silence lasted until Jussipo heard Arman letting out yet another sigh. His face portrayed the perfect example of an aristocrat to whom a great injustice had been done.  
“Arman. Shut up.”  
Arman sat up rigidly.  
“No. I didn’t say anything.”  
“Your whole demeanour is saying something.”  
A twitch of his head. “It is not.”  
Jussipo grinned. “It is.”

Arman twisted on his horse. Got him, Jussipo thought.

“It is not.”  
“Tis.”  
“I just don’t think it is _right_ ,” he tried to face Jussipo fully, “that _some_ people, whose father did _not_ send us on this mission might I add, claim to know what’s best. While _other_ people evidently are more quali-”  
Jussipo soon became distracted by the mist clinging to his face, making his nose itch.  
“Ah. I was wrong.”  
“-much better… Wrong about what?”  
Jussipo shook his head. “No, no sorry. I thought I could use the entertainment, I was wrong. I’ll find it elsewhere.”  
He promptly manoeuvred around so he could lounge backwards on his horse, back to a spluttering Arman.  
The surroundings were a lot more peaceful this way actually. A robin flew from an oak, letting out a little squeak. The rich air of wet soil filled his nose.  
“At least now one of us has got a nice view. Hi Foldo.” said Jussipo.

Foldo gave a hesitant wave.  
Maybe it was time to take out the lute after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather short one. I have the fourth chapter ready, but the third one didn't work for me yet. I didn't want to wait too long to post it though, so here's a small part.  
> If you see a mistake, feel free to point it out!  
> Thank you for reading and the lovely comments and kudos on the last one.


	3. Coat

One by one raindrops had freed themselves from the clouds. Little spots of water gathering in the trees’ leaves and turning fat before dropping on the heads of the four companions.  
Foldo and Iona had pulled up their hoods. Arman and Jussipo were not so fortunate.

Jussipo tried to shelter his lute unsuccessfully, body folded into an uncomfortable position.  
“Iona, we need to stop!” he called for the third time. “I have to put it away.”  
“I agree,” said Arman “I have a cloak in my saddleback. If you’d just slow down I could grab it.”  
“And lose precious time? What do you think Tiuri is doing, taking a nice long vacation from the run because his hair is getting a little wet?” said Iona.  
Jussipo huddled closer around his lute. “I don’t care. I have to put it away.”  
“What I wouldn’t give for you to have said that an hour ago.”  
Iona tightened the fabric around her neck. Arman gave a little huff and strode alongside her.  
“You’re doing this on purpose.” he accused.  
Iona gave him a rather devilish grin and spurred her horse faster.  
“Just try to keep up, you bunch of slugs.”

“Well, I’m stopping.” Jussipo called after her. The droplets were sliding from his hair into his neck. He shivered. Weren’t woods supposed to give you shelter?  
Arman, having stopped as well, was already in the process of hurriedly rummaging through his saddleback. In one swift motion he had pulled on his cloak and clambered back on his horse to pursue Iona. Foldo passed Jussipo, giving him a small smile. He followed the others at a much slower pace, his lanky body swaying from side to side in that weird way of his. The perfect paragon of a proper knight in every other way.  
A drop on his nose broke Jussipo’s stupor. He climbed off, exposing the lute to the brutality of nature for a few vital seconds. He delicately put it in his bag, and started looking for his coat.  
He could have sworn he’d put it with his other clothes before he went to sleep yesterday, but now it was nowhere to be seen.  
He walked around to check the other bag, but no luck there either. Apparently he had failed to bring it.

A crash as something slipped, just to the side of them.

“What was that?” Foldo halted his horse and steered it to the sound of footsteps running away.  
Iona rushed by, Arman on her heels. “Don’t just stand there, you obtuse giraffe.”  
They dashed into the treeline, Jussipo following a few seconds later.  
By the time he’d reached the others, Arman and Iona had dismounted and were quietly staring ahead at a rabbit, bleeding out on the moss.  
Jussipo whistled “Nice shot Iona.”  
She hushed him.  
“It was Arman.” said Foldo.  
“ _Arman_?”  
“I’ve hunted since I was a child,” Arman huffed, “you can’t honestly think me incapable of hitting prey.”  
“Shut up, you lot. That sound really couldn’t have come from such a small rabbit.” hissed Iona. “I’m telling you, someone has been following us.”  
She moved away from them, carefully placing her steps as to not make any noise. Then she picked up a rock and threw it far. Arman, Foldo and Jussipo all moved into defensive stances.

Nothing happened.

After a while Foldo broke the silence “There’s nothing there.”  
“It couldn’t have been the rabbit.” Iona repeated.  
“Have we lost them?” Arman asked.  
“At least we’ll have something else for dinner than dried fruits and bread.” Jussipo turned his horse back the way he’d come from. “Well come on. Who’s wasting precious time now?”

Suddenly a great weight dropped from the sky into his back. Jussipo lost his balance and toppled from the saddle, hitting the ground.  
“Whoops, didn’t mean to do _that_.”

Jussipo rolled into his back. “Piak?!”  
Piak jumped of the horse and tried to help him up, biggest grin on his face. Jussipo swatted away his hand.  
“Who the hell is this, this-” Arman gestured wildly, “small human?”  
Iona let out a sound, but it was Foldo who answered. “It’s his little brother.”  
“Nice to make your acquaintance. I’ve been pretty much sticking around from the beginning. Have to say I expected a lot more action, but hey,” Piak held up his hands in a placating gesture, “who am I to judge a knight’s mission. Good shot on the rabbit though, Arman.”  
“…Thanks.”  
“And Iona, you’re so fast I feared for my life! Almost couldn’t get into the tree on time.”  
“Shut up! You shut up right now.” Jussipo had gotten up and stepped closer to Piak. The little shit looked a bit tired, but otherwise unharmed. His woollen knit cap sheltered his ears from the cold water still cascading from the skies. “What are you doing here?”  
Piak pointed in the general direction of a crushed dandelion underneath his feet “I’m standing, obviously.”  
Iona snorted, Jussipo shot her a glare.  
“What are you doing here.” he spoke through gritted teeth.  
Piak looked around the group, assessing each of them before he crossed his arms. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I’m gonna come with you.”  
“The hell you are.” Jussipo grabbed him by his too big sleeve and dragged him in the direction of the road. It was the sleeve of his own coat, he now saw. “You’re going home.”  
“No! Jussipo,” Piak managed to wrench his arm free, taking great care to put distance between himself and his brother. “think of what an asset I can be.”  
He bumped into Iona, who glared and said “No way we’re bringing along a kid.”  
“We’re not.” said Jussipo.  
“I don’t think-” Arman started at the same time Foldo said “So what are you going to do, sent him back alone?”  
“We’re not babysitters. We have a real job to do here.” said Iona.  
“And he’s been fine so far.” said Jussipo, throwing up his hands.  
Foldo made an exasperated face. Piak, having made an estimation, took shelter behind him. It was a comical sight, the difference between their heights accentuated by contrast.  
“You can’t honestly mean that.” said Foldo. “He’s your brother.”  
Jussipo tried to stare him down, it didn’t work.  
“It’s far too dangerous out there!”  
“Besides,” said Piak, head popping out from behind Foldo, “I’ll just keep following you till you’re too far to send me back.”  
“Cut the crap, we can’t afford to be slowed down.” Iona reached for Piak, but he evaded her easily, shot passed her and managed to take the knife off her belt. She stole it back almost immediately with a scowl, but still the tiniest glint of newfound respect could be seen in her eyes.  
“No, no. We’re taking him to the nearest town, find an even remotely respectable place and leave him there. No way he’s coming with us.” said Jussipo.  
This time it was Arman who shot him a look. “Are you a retard? That will slow us down even more!”  
“I’m good company you know. Much better than Jussipo.” Piak quipped in.  
Jussipo glared at him, then he gave Foldo a final glance, who nodded slightly.  
“Fine,” said Jussipo, angrily stomping off. “but I’m not dealing with him now.”  
Foldo caught up with him, a skip in his step.

Iona left as well, leaving Arman standing beside Piak. He walked over to the rabbit and picked it up, dislodging the arrow from its flank.  
“It _was_ a good shot with the crossbow, wasn’t it? The trick is to calculate ahead the victim’s route. I’ve learned it from father at a pretty young age.”  
He looked over at where Piak was standing only seconds ago, catching a glimpse of his coat as he too rushed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got slightly stuck on the scene where Piak appears, because I really liked the scene in the show and I didn't want to discredit it. It portrayed all the characters so nicely, but I didn't want to write something that was already there. The result is still quite like in the series, but a tad different.  
> I think I'll add the next chapter later today!  
> Thanks again.


	4. Roland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one needs a small warning? There are some descriptions of people being killed on the battlefield, but it is told in a (fictional) story. It's nothing too grapic I believe, but I can't judge that for other people of course. If you're not comfortable with it you can read on till you reach "Finally realising they could never win the fight, he searched for Oliver." and you can pick it up again at “Then he lay down his head to his final resting place…"  
> But it's nothing too bad!

That night in camp Piak sat bundled up in Jussipo’s coat. The light of the moon obscuring half his face in shadow. Nocturnal animals had just begun hunting, making muted noises. The air had cleared earlier that evening and left a promise of sunshine tomorrow.  
Tired, and with the prospect of a new long day of riding ahead, everyone had turned in early.  
Piak was staring in the direction they came from. Jussipo, lying awake a short distance away, watched him silently and wondered if it bothered him, every step taking him a bit further from home.

There came movement from a spot next to the fire, someone walking over to sit beside Piak. Who looked up, but otherwise undertook no action.  
“What’s the matter Piak, can’t you sleep?” a voice whispered.  
Jussipo strained to hear.  
“I’ve slept in more uncomfortable places than this. On my own.”  
“That’s not really, well, that’s brave of you. But it doesn’t really answer my question.”  
Undoubtedly Foldo.  
Piak let out a huff. “Of course I _can_ sleep; I’m just not doing it.”  
They sat in silence for a little while. Then Foldo said: “Would you mind if I told you a story?”

Jussipo shifted a bit to see better. Foldo cast a big shadow over Piak. The boy was, as a default of being a little brother, always small to Jussipo, but his personality was quick to compensate it. If Piak set his mind to something, his energy could easily take over the attention of an entire room. It made him somewhat bigger, obnoxious really.  
Sat next to Foldo he had shrunk to a regular young boy.

Piak screwed up his nose. “What kind of story? Is this one of those grown-up things?”  
Foldo let out a surprised laugh. “No. At least, I don’t think so, but maybe it’s a matter of perspective. If you’d look at i-”  
“I want a horror story, with lots of blood and severed limbs!”  
Foldo fell silent, head tilted to the ground in thought. After a few seconds Piak pushed his shoulder.  
“It can be a story about knights.”  
Foldo looked up, seemingly done processing whatever needed processing. He sat so he could look Piak in the eye and straightened his shoulders.  
“Do you know the story of knight Roland and his friend Oliver?”  
Piak shook his head, already enraptured by the way Foldo had changed into a different version of himself. He spoke in the theatrical low voice he adopted whenever he did what he so secretly did best: storytelling.

“Roland was a famous knight of France, a trusted vassal of Charlemagne. With his unbreakable sword, Durendal, Roland was invincible. He was strong and quick, confident in battle. But,”  
Piak’s eyes flew to Foldo’s raised finger, body held taut in anticipation as he changed tone.  
“another thing we need to know is that Roland was a proud man, nothing was more important to him than his honour.

“One day Roland was called into battle by Charlemagne. He led the rear-guard of the army, closely followed by his good friend Oliver, who was an honest and just man.  
Betrayed by Roland’s stepfather the men were ambushed at the plain of Rencevale. Saracens engulfed them from all sides. Immediately it became clear they could not win, the Saracens were superior in numbers. All Roland’s men would be slaughtered.”

Foldo let out a breath, making the silence explain the gravity of the situation.

“Roland and Oliver fought side by side, and both saw the hopelessness of the situation. No matter how many men they defeated, there were always more lying in wait. One by one their own soldiers were slain.  
Then Oliver saw something of great hope: a horn, left by Charlemagne to call for help from the Frankish army! With great risk he managed to obtain it, bringing it hurriedly to Roland. ‘Here is our salvation!’ he called. ‘Our last hope. Sound the horn and warn Charlemagne’s troops of our struggle!’  
Roland looked upon the horn, shoved into his hand by Oliver. And what did he do?”

Foldo bowed closer to Piak, who listened on, enthralled.

“He cast in carelessly to the ground,” Piak gasped as he mimicked throwing away the horn. “and said: ‘God wants me to win this battle, France will not lose her honour on my watch. We will only prove ourselves to be weak by calling in the troops.’  
Oliver pleaded with him, ‘Lord, we have to. If you blow the horn now we can still beat the Saracens!’  
‘No. We will defeat this enemy alone, to the last breath.’  
Driven by desperation, Oliver tried to get to the horn so he himself could call for the Frankish army. But Roland roughly shoved him, and still in battle Oliver found himself moving further and further away.

“Roland kept on fighting the Saracens. With Durendal in his hand he always gained the upper hand, but even he got tired eventually. When he had a chance to look around he saw that almost all his men were either mortally wounded or dead.  
Finally realising they could never win the fight, he searched for Oliver. But what happened? Just as he spotted his friend a Saracen moved in from behind Oliver, ramming a spear into his back, leaving him with a metal point sticking out of his chest. Roland saw it happen as if time had slowed down. With his final strength Oliver flung his sword around and smashed in his opponent’s head, then he sagged to the ground.  
Roland rushed to his side. ‘Oliver! My dear friend. This day will forever haunt our history.’ He moved to cradle Oliver’s head in his lap. In doing so he spotted the horn, lying just in reach. ‘Oliver,’ he said, ‘I will blow the horn.’  
Oliver coughed, blood rushing to his lips. ‘Don’t be a fool Roland, the battle is already lost. You should have blown it when I told you.’  
Then he fell into eternal silence.  
Roland begged his friend’s forgiveness and picked up the horn. ‘If not for the battle, then in tribute to you Oliver. Honour be damned.’  
He blew the horn four times with all the strength he had left.

“He blew so loud his eardrums popped, leaving his ears soaked in blood. The Saracens, being cowards, fled. But one of them did not leave before cleaving Roland’s head, who sat dazed and could no longer hear him come. He managed to throw Durendal into the coward’s back before he too fell down.  
In his last glimpse Roland saw the battlefield. All the men dead, Saracens running and the Frankish army on the horizon.  
Then he lay down his head to his final resting place. Knowing, while he had died a hero’s death, that if he’d been less proud, he and his men would’ve emerged victoriously and unharmed.

“And that’s why,” Foldo concluded, “it’s essential for a knight to be able to set aside their pride, and not to be afraid to ask for help.”

“What a doofus!” Piak exclaimed, “I would’ve blown on that horn ages ago. Would’ve tooted a sweet melody on it.”  
He yawned, flinging himself down on the ground while nestling into his coat.  
“I’ve decided to go to sleep now.”  
Foldo smiled. “That’s good.”  
He slowly got up, careful not to wake the others.  
“Foldo?” Piak whispered sleepily.  
“Yes?”  
“Thank you.”  
He fell into a breathy snore almost immediately.

A little further away, from his own place on the ground, Jussipo closed his eyes and let sleep take him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the story Foldo is telling from a medieval Dutch translation (Roelantslied) of the French story "Chanson de Roland". I altered some things, it is quite a dramatic story with all these symbolic references to Christianity. Very medieval like.  
> Thanks again for reading, and the kudos and comments :)


	5. A nice red

“Had we stopped in that field we just passed,” Jussipo told the group at large. “I would have played you a song as lovely as the view itself.”

The wind blew in a fresh breeze, carrying a hint of salt with it as if they were close to the sea, and though the nights were still cold, the days were sunnier now. This time of year, the light had a quality to it which made everything twice as pretty.  
Some moments ago they had passed a clearing which would have been a lovely picnic spot under different circumstances: the grass lay besprinkled with blood red poppies and bright blue forget-me-nots, as well as other flowers. Jussipo was sure he wasn’t the only one who regretted having to trod past it, but he mostly said it to irritate Arman, who sighed at even only the mention of his music.  
“Wind blew meadow flowers fluty, did almost match Jussipo in beauty,” he sang.  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Foldo shake his head, a blush colouring his cheeks. Which was pretty interesting, Jussipo thought. He hummed on.  
“Jussipo, let me ask you something.” Arman cut in. “Can you play, like, _any_ other melody at all? Or is this all you’re capable off.”  
“Pretty sure this is it.” Iona called from the front. Piak nodded in assent.  
“You all clearly don’t appreciate the finer arts.” said Jussipo good-naturedly. “I’ll forgive you for not knowing better.”  
Piak gave him a jab. “I know fine music, but never has it come out of _your_ mouth.”

Before Jussipo could react Piak had already moved on to a different topic.  
“Iona?” he asked, “How do you know we’re going the right way?”

Piak fitted in with the group surprisingly well.  
He wasn’t always the nuisance he could so often be and showed himself capable of traveling with them calmly, with a few exceptions. Most of the time he silently sat behind Jussipo, watching everyone interact, but he could also be found chatting away with whoever was closest.

They had been going on for miles now with no clear indication they were headed in the right direction. In the beginning of their journey there had been many fresh prints of footsteps, hooves and signs of campfire, as well as other things a trained hunter’s eye could use to find Tiuri. But either he must have gotten better at hiding his tracks, or they were taking the wrong route.  
Iona wasn’t one to admit a mistake, and neither was Arman, so it was Foldo who tentatively suggested they took a break from riding and split up so they could look for things they might’ve missed.  
Foldo went some miles back, Arman scanned the area ahead and Iona stuck to the place they were in currently, followed around by Piak.  
Jussipo thought he might as well go back to the clearing.

It was good to be alone for a while. The wind blew the hairs out of his face and spread the smell of wildflowers and wood, mixed with a tinge of salt. The clearing held a whole spectrum of colour: purple hyacinths, off-white blossom on the trees that had just started to bloom, as many as twenty different shades of green and of course the striking red and blue of the poppies and the forget-me-nots. Clouds drifted by lazily, and if Jussipo were to lay down on the grass he was sure he would fall asleep instantly. Such a shame there were other things to do. But maybe, if there was nothing to be seen, he could practice his sword fighting.

When Jussipo returned empty-handed, just as he had expected, to the meeting point, there was no one around yet. So he was leaning against a tree, waiting for the others to return, when something large fell onto his head.

“Ouch.” he said, and watched the pinecone roll to a stop.  
Immediately thereafter another one fell, almost in the exact same spot as before. Jussipo looked up and saw the needle-covered branches shift. It could have been the wind, but it was suspicious. The thought was confirmed by yet another pinecone, landing on the ground in front of him. Someone giggled above him. “Missed.”

Jussipo’s head shot up.

“Piak?” he asked. “Get down here! What is it with you and trees?”  
Piak’s face appeared in the foliage. “It wasn’t my idea.” he said. Someone hissed, Jussipo frowned.  
“Not your idea? Who is in there with you?” Another pinecone fell on his face. “Piak, stop that!”  
But Piak had already disappeared.  
Jussipo started to tap his foot impatiently.  
“Don’t make me come up there and drag you down.”  
“St!” Iona called. “I can see something.”  
“Iona?” said Jussipo, craning his neck in an attempt to see better. Sadly enough, one does not obtain the ability to see through matter by simply trying. “Are you seriously up a tree with my little brother? What are you, twelve?”  
“Shut your noisy mouth Jussipo. I can see Tiuri.”  
Jussipo scrambled to the tree trunk, already putting a foot on the lowest branch and swatting away the pines. “You see _what_?” he asked at the same time Piak yelled: “Tiuri? Why didn’t you let me climb first, now I’m missing out on all the fun!”

“I’m getting up there.” Jussipo said, and he stepped up a second branch, but was hindered in getting any higher by the lack of space. Iona was positioned at the very top, stretched out fully with a hand above her eyes in concentration. Piak was situated much lower. Formerly launching on his belly, he was now just getting up.  
“He’s heading east.” Iona called from up high.  
Piak got on his feet and tried to lift himself up. “Is he close?” he asked “Could we run to catch him? Do you think Arman has seen him? Is he alone? Does he have a horse?”  
“Piak, move out of the way, I want to get through.” said Jussipo.  
“No,” said Iona, “He’s too far away. I can only see a dot now.”  
“How do you know it’s him then.” said Piak.  
“Come on, I need to see as well. Piak move.”

Just as Jussipo said it a large piece of bark let loose beneath his feet, making him slip. He let out a startled yell as he fell down to the ground. The hard, cold, dirt stained ground-

-which he never hit.

Jussipo opened his eyes to Foldo hovering above him, gripping his back tight.  
“Hello?” he said.  
Normally he was never this clumsy. Trust Foldo to appear at just the right moments.  
Foldo draped an arm around his waist to pull him upright. It tickled, he unintentionally used his nails while moving his hand. Luckily he was back on his feet seconds later.  
“Don’t be such a drama queen Sippo. ‘T was not even two meters high.” said Piak.

Foldo looked up, startled. “What’s happening?” he asked.  
“I have no clue,” Jussipo straightened his jacket. “I come here, am pelted with pinecones, discover my brother bonding with Iona, of all people, and now they have found Tiuri apparently.”  
Foldo gaped at him, and then at the tree. “Wait,” he said, “Iona’s in the tree with Piak?”  
Piak’s head appeared again. “It wasn’t my idea! Iona just said ‘Hey, I’m bored, let’s climb a tree.’ and I went along with it.”  
The leaves rustled and the branches shook as Iona clambered down. “No,” she said, “I wasn’t bored. I wanted to look ahead, see if Tiuri was close.”  
Piak stared up at her, eyes narrowed. “I thought you accidentally saw him because you were bored and climbed up a tree.”  
Iona silenced him with a look.  
“Still, how come we aren’t trying to catch up with Tiuri?” asked Jussipo.  
“No use, he’s too far away.” Iona answered, jumping out and dusting of her hands. “That horse of his is running like the devil. At least we know which way he is going.”

“Do you need help?” Foldo asked Piak. He stuck out his hand, but Piak was already jumping down, copying Iona’s movements exactly.  
“Why are we still here, lollygagging, let’s move!” Iona walked to the horses, Piak on her heels. He still stopped in front of Jussipo’s horse though, so Jussipo shrugged and went after them.

They were back on track for quite some time when Foldo spoke up.

“Shouldn’t we have waited for Arman?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More coming up! I need to check everything for mistakes first.  
> If you see any in here, feel free to let me know!


	6. Muse

Five days, and Jussipo hadn’t written any epic songs yet. Not even one.

He had hoped there would’ve happened enough by now, but he still didn’t know what to write about.  
Apart for some short quips, he was stuck.  
How would his deeds become famous if he were to sit around, waiting till somebody else sang about him while he was grey, or already dead? No one would remember what he was actually like.  
And what of Iona and Arman? What of Foldo? Who would sing about them?

Never before in his life did he have this much trouble thinking of something. Letting his mouth do all the work, his brain never even came into the picture till it was time to fine-tune.  
It had always worked before, so why wouldn’t it now?

Words should flow. They weren’t made to hide themselves away or get stuck somewhere. Words existed to convey feeling, emotion chopped into bits so you can communicate them to others. Words were made to be spoken.

He broodingly stared ahead, clutching his lute like a lifeline. He was just so fed up with this inability to string together a sentence. Whenever he tried he just got angry, and anger didn’t give you much room to think at all.  
Shouldn’t he be able to do this one thing?

Someone plopped down on the ground in front of him, pulling him out of his thoughts.  
“What are you making long faces at?” asked Piak.  
They had spent the night by a fallen tree, a large thing with a big lump of soil collected in its roots sticking out in the air. The place was covered in spiders and ants, but the log nevertheless provided some shelter as well as a good sitting place. Confident in the feasibility of their goal by having seen Tiuri yesterday, they were permitting themselves a somewhat slower morning than usual.  
Jussipo set the lute away, Piak’s eyes followed the movement dangerously.  
“Nothing.”  
Piak nodded at the lute. “Play something.”  
Jussipo shrugged and looked up at Iona and Arman, who were saddling the horses. Arman was telling some kind of story while Iona ignored him, chagrined pulling straps tighter.  
“Nah. I don’t feel like it.”

When he looked back he saw Piak gaping at him.

“Don’t feel like it? You haven’t played or sang a single note since yesterday morning. Normally mum and I can’t get you to shut up!”  
Jussipo evaded his eyes. “Well, today, _and_ yesterday, for a fact, I just don’t feel like it.”  
He startled of the sudden hand against his head.  
“Are you sick?” said Piak. “Where’s my brother and what have you done to him? Did you kill him and hide his body underneath a bunch of leaves?”  
He stretched out his neck extravagantly, as if he expected to find Jussipo’s corpse just behind the log he was sitting on. Jussipo pushed him.  
“Shut up. If you must know, I can’t find the right words lately.”  
When he saw Piak’s expression he immediately regretted telling him.  
“Can’t find the words eh?” Piak’s smile grew bigger by the second. “Well, maybe I can help.”  
Lightning quick Piak stole the lute from beside Jussipo and held it stretched out behind himself.  
Jussipo shot up and attempted to grab him, but Piak expected it and slipped away with ease.

“Piak. Give it back.”  
“Why?”  
“Why? Because you’ll break it, that’s why! Now give it back.”  
Piak danced further away. “Come on Jussipo, an instrument must’ve lived a little to make good music.”  
“Give. It. Back.”  
“I’m sure I can make it live a little.”  
“Piak, now!”

Piak held the lute now pressed to his chest. Jussipo tried to snatch it, but again he twisted away. He took shelter behind Iona’s horse, who rolled her eyes at them and got on with her work. Arman aborted his story and looked at them in confusion.  
Piak began plucking a string, but had to move to the other side to outrun Jussipo, making them go around the horses in circles. One of them whinnied nervously.

“For God’s sake, just let him have the thing. He can keep it for my part.” said Iona.  
“I do sing better.” Piak agreed.

Jussipo managed to make him stumble by hooking his foot, but Piak darted away behind a tree undeterred.

“Piak I swear I will dump you with the first random person we cross and I’ll never come to pick you up!”

Piak giggled and moved further into the treeline. “Seriously? Mom would never allow it.”  
He tried another step backwards but smacked against something solid and tall. Something that wasn’t there before. The thing gently plucked the lute from out of his hands and held it up to the sky.

“Maybe that’s enough?” said Foldo.

His height made it impossible for Piak to reach the instrument. Seeing it as a challenge, Piak attempted to climb up a tree to get closer, but there weren’t enough branches to hold on to. Next he tried running up to it, to no avail. Hanging on Foldo’s arms also didn’t do the trick, as he just switched the lute from his right hand to his left and back.  
In the end Piak resulted in lamely jumping up and down. Foldo stretched his arm out higher.  
“Why do you have to be such a spoilsport.” Piak grumbled.

Jussipo stood by and watched, highly entertained, until his brother got bored and ran off to bother someone else. Foldo hadn’t budged once.  
Then, unthinkingly, Jussipo stepped closer and got on tiptoe, his concentration on the lute.  
“However amusing this has been,” he reached for it, but because of the height difference his hand only brushed Foldo’s wrist. “you can give it back now.”

He didn’t even register what he was doing till he felt a breath to his forehead, shifted his attention and looked at Foldo from very, very close by.  
Foldo’s eyes were widening. Up-close the details in them were quite lovely, blue, flecked with green and brown. And was it strange to find eyebrows pretty? They framed his warm eyes complimentary.

It was warm, wasn’t it? The sun must have begun shining.

He realised he was biting his lip because Foldo’s eyes flickered to it. He stopped, self-consciously.  
Foldo’s own lips were slightly parted. Jussipo wondered what they would feel like against his own.

His hand enclosed around the lute and he pulled it down, making Foldo’s arm go along with it and accidentally bringing his face even closer.

“Got it!” Piak all but yelled into their ears.

Jussipo jolted back. As did Foldo, who hit his head against the tree he was standing to. A blush rose high on his cheeks. With only half an ear they heard Piak sprint away, already boasting about his victory. A distant rushing filled the silence he left behind, as if someplace off someone was rhythmically sweeping the floor. Foldo rubbed the sore spot on his head, Jussipo reached out a hand, but caught himself in time and let it drop.  
“Are you alright?” he asked.  
“Yes,” Foldo cleared his throat. “fine, yes.”

He briefly made eye contact, but let it drop just as fast. Then he walked of, eyes glued to the ground.

“Alright.” said Jussipo.

Music reached his ears, a child’s voice sang about being a master thief. He turned towards it.  
“PIAK. That’s _enough_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	7. Useless, privileged dirtbags.

They must have been getting close to the sea, because every day the distant rushing got louder.  
The muddy tracks changed into sandy tracks, tufts of blue flowers nestled inconspicuously into the green, as well as the white heads of little Mouse-ear sticking out of sandy patches. Prickly shrubs glimmered with the fresh red of rosehips.  
Eventually they came out of the woods onto an open plain, leading to the edge of a cliff that looked out over a rich grey sea. Foam heads swirled dangerously in the push and pull of her powerful waves.  
It was strange how something so perilous could have such a calming effect.  
Directly below them was a thin line of yellow, where the sea had left some room for land.

“It’s beautiful, is it not?”  
Strangely enough it was Arman who had said it.  
“We have to get down there!” Piak called, “We could swim!”  
“We can’t. You joined us on our mission remember? Not on a beach trip.” said Arman, a tinge of regret in his voice.  
The sun reflected on the waves invitingly, he wiped some sweat of his brow.

“Come on pipsqueak, let’s move before the sirens lure us in.” said Jussipo. And because Piak sat behind him, he didn’t have a say in the matter.

Or so they thought.

The group continued on their journey, the burning sun in combination with the alluring sound of splashing waves and salt air left no one in the best of moods.  
They had spread themselves out on the plain to search effectively, interchanging in pairs who rode closest to the treeline so they could catch some shadow in turns.  
It had only been approximately a quarter of an hour when Jussipo heard a yell.

“Jussipo!” It was Foldo, whom he had just passed. He slowed down so he could catch up with him.  
“Was Piak not sitting there, minutes ago?” Foldo pointed at the rear of his horse for emphasis.  
Jussipo twisted around. “He still is…not. Seriously? That pest! I thought he was sulking.”  
He scanned the surroundings, but Piak was nowhere in sight. He must have run to the trees.  
“Piak!” he hollered. There came no reply.  
Jussipo swore and turned his horse back the way they came from. Foldo did the same.  
“Piak!”  
“Piak, get back here this instant.”

“Oi! What are you morons doing? Tiuri’s trail leads that way.” said Iona, who had stopped as well and was regarding them with distaste.  
“Where’s Piak?” she asked.  
“That,” said Foldo, “is exactly the problem.”  
Iona groaned loudly “We have _no_ time for this.” she said.

Arman came galloping back, the hoofs of his horse made deep dents in the sandy path.  
“Why are we all stopping? I have told you before, it’s as if your knighthood means nothing to you. If we are to succeed you’ll have to keep up with me!”  
Jussipo pulled an ugly face. “Not everything is about you Arman.”  
“Excuse me? You’re the one who’s constantly stopping for no reason at all.”  
“Quit bickering already. Jussipo, if you don’t find that kid in the next five minutes I’m out of here.” said Iona.

Jussipo grimaced at her. “Fine.” he said, then he stormed off.

Arman reigned in beside Foldo. “What’s wrong with him?”  
“Honestly?” Foldo tried for patience, but a lot of aggravation still shone through his expression.  
Arman frowned. “What?”

Foldo didn’t dignify that with a response and followed in the direction Iona had set off in.  
“Piak!” he shouted.  
“Piak.” said Arman, “What of him?”  
Only then the penny dropped.  
“Are you kidding me?” he said to himself, “Piak, get here you idiot!”

Five minutes soon became one hour, one hour turned into two.  
The sun had long since passed its highest point in the sky and their surroundings were rapidly cooling down.  
The group gathered again after what had been a fruitless search.

“He never should’ve come with us in the first place. Look how he’s jeopardising everything.” Iona complained. She still hadn’t left though.  
“Not as if you did anything about it.” grumbled Arman.  
Iona immediately took offense. “What’s that supposed to mean.” she said. “I seem to remember you were just standing there, gaping like some dumb fish like usual.”  
Arman straightened up and pointed a finger at her. “Say that again and I’ll kick your ass.”  
“Um,” said Foldo, “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but-”  
Iona smiled scornfully at Arman. “Like to see you try.”

Arman angrily steered in her direction, hands curled into fists. Jussipo hurried to stand between them.  
“Guys, guys! Stop it. We need to focus here.”

“Well he’s your brother, so it’s your problem.” said Arman haughtily. His attention shifted away from Iona, for his bad mood had found a better target. “It’s your fault, actually.”  
Jussipo narrowed his eyes. “What exactly do you mean by that?” he asked.  
“If you’d been more responsible you wouldn’t have lost him in the first place.”  
“Excuse me,” Foldo began.  
Jussipo moved in menacingly, making his horse bump with Arman’s. It neighed.  
“You take that back!” he yelled.  
“People, look,” said Foldo.  
“It’s the truth! You’re just too stupid to-”

“Hi fellas!”

Three pairs of eyes shot to Piak, who was sitting next to Foldo on a large, moss covered boulder.  
He waved merrily at them. “How’s it going?”  
Foldo crossed his arms.

Jussipo got off his horse immediately. He took three long strides and it looked as if he wanted to envelop Piak into a tight hug.  
Instead he pulled his head down by an ear, dragging him off the boulder.  
“Ouch. Jussipo!”  
“Absolute pest! You never do that again.”  
He gave a small twist for good measure.

Iona whistled. “Very touching. Can we _finally_ get going now?”  
“I don’t know if that’s wise, it is getting dark soon.” said Foldo.  
He had gotten of the rock as well, and was brushing dirt off his knees. Iona glared daggers at him. And at Jussipo and Piak, the latter either being checked for injuries, or slapped by the first.  
“Obviously we have to continue in the dark, we have lost too much time already.” she said.

Arman dismounted as well, shaking the cramps out of his limbs.  
“Iona, we can’t see any tracks in the dark. How would we know we’re headed in the right direction? Father always says: ‘If you are going to hunt-”

Iona interrupted him. “You know what you are?” she said, “You’re all useless, privileged dirtbags.”

She steered away from them and broke into gallop, swiftly distancing herself.  
“ _I_ will go and do my job.” she spat over her shoulder.

The rest stared after her in silence. 

After a while Arman shrugged. “She’ll be back. Probably.”  
“On the bright side,” said Piak, “we can now enjoy a whole night at sea.”  
“No you’re not.” said Jussipo, “You are packing out our supplies, collecting firewood and cooking us dinner, all under supervision. And then,” Jussipo dragged him to the horses, “straight to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware landscapes usually don't work like this (at least, here we have woods/dunes and sea, but no cliffs). I'm trying to put as much nature as I can in there, because nature is my biggest crush (even insects, call me weird).


	8. Sunset

Somehow the air stank of fish, but still managed to maintain a freshness you couldn’t find anywhere else. The scent held a promise of free, hot days, spent by the water to cool off. The last rays of sunlight glinted off the waves magnificently and stained the sky in purples, pinks and reds.  
With the rushing noise a sense of calm had returned to the group.

Some time ago Iona had appeared again, claiming she had scouted ahead the area. After that everyone set about to do their own thing, taking a break of being forced together for so long.

Jussipo stood by the edge of the cliff, admiring the view and hoping it would inspire him, when he spotted a lonely figure down by the beach. He thought him familiar and decided to make his way down, using the roots of a gigantic dead tree, stood in the cliff’s edge, for a grip. The tree had grown impressively skywards for the way the ground below it tilted in almost sixty degrees.  
When Jussipo reached the beach he gave in to the urge to pull of his boots, feeling the rapidly cooling sand soft between his toes. Partially sinking in he slowly made his way over to Foldo.

“Hey.” he said, as he plopped down his boots and sat next to them. Foldo briefly nodded at him, but soon returned his gaze to the setting sun.  
“It’s beautiful.” remarked Jussipo.  
Foldo hummed, he looked deeply troubled by something. Jussipo briefly wondered if his company was wanted.

“Have you ever swam in the sea?” he asked.  
“Not that I remember.” said Foldo, his eyes still trained on the glistening waves.

Jussipo would’ve been scared, trapped between sea and the large rock wall behind them, if it wasn’t for the peacefulness of the place. Seagulls cawed, hovering near the water for fish. The sea rippled up and down.  
It was the perfect place to ponder, if you were into that sort of thing.

The silence between them continued, and even though it was peaceful, it had an awkward tinge to it.  
“I have, once.” Jussipo tried once again to start up a conversation. “With mum and Piak. We travelled to Douinville and stayed with my aunt.”

Again only a nod, Jussipo shifted uneasily. He didn’t often become nervous with people; it wasn’t in his nature. But with Foldo he always wanted to do better, be better. He made his heart race with even the shortest contact possible, like saying hello, or literally only walking passed him. It was unfair, really.

“Well,” Jussipo began pulling on his boots again. “maybe I should go and see how everybody else is doing. They could have found Tiuri in my short absence, who knows.”  
Foldo finally turned to his attention to him, making Jussipo halt his movement.  
“Oh.” said Foldo. “You don’t have to- I mean, don’t leave on my behalf.”  
“Honestly? I think you want some peace and quiet, which is why you came down here in the first place probably, sorry about that.” 

Jussipo moved to stand up, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.  
“No! You’re welcome to stay.”

Jussipo sat down again, slightly confused.

Foldo rapidly pulled back his hand and said: “It’s just, doesn’t it bother you?”  
Jussipo made himself comfortable on the sand, already feeling heaps of it piling into his clothes.  
“Does what bother me?”  
“Everything about this, this,” Foldo moved a hand around, “situation. Us.”  
Jussipo felt a clench in his chest, what situation? But Foldo already continued.  
“Chasing after Tiuri like he’s a serious criminal. I honestly can’t believe he killed the black knight. I know he cheated in the trials, but we all saw Tiuri sincerely wanted to help the black knight’s squire when he came to the chapel. He refused not to, even if it could mean he would lose his dignity.  
Besides, the black knight was probably already wounded. If Tiuri _did_ kill him, it must have been an accident. I mean, you’ve seen him fight.

“Not,” he hastily added, looking from Jussipo to the sea, “to mean him any discredit of course.”

Jussipo smiled. “If he’s really the ruthless murderer everybody says he is, it would hardly matter if you offended him.” He gave Foldo a little poke, making him look back at him. “But if I see Tiuri, I’ll tell him you never gossiped about his abilities.”

Foldo rolled his eyes.

“But you know what I mean, right? It doesn’t seem fair to chase after him. And the way it happened is also strange. Sending us on a quest to capture him, kill him even, and getting rewarded by being knighted? Where’s the honour in that?  
With the trials we had to practice, to work hard, to learn and prove ourselves worthy of being a knight. And while I’m just as angry as the rest of you that Tiuri ruined it for us all by leaving, he did it to help someone. I think. So if we capture him, what does it prove exactly?”

“At the very least, that we’re good bloodhounds.”

“Have you thought about it though?”

Jussipo leaned back on his arms and grinned up at Foldo. “You know me; I really can’t be bothered to be bothered by something.”

For a second one corner of Foldo’s mouth shot up, but soon his expression turned pensive again.  
“At the very least it proves us to be puppets of Sir Fantumar.” He shook his head. “All I want is to be a knight and have deserved it.”

Jussipo chuckled. “Don’t be daft. If anyone deserves to be a knight it’s you.”

Foldo ducked his head and gave no reply.

“Look,” said Jussipo after a while, “I do agree with you, something feels shady about all this. But I think the only thing we can do is find Tiuri and figure out what happened.”  
“If Iona doesn’t kill him on the spot. Or Arman.” Foldo added.  
“tsk.” said Jussipo “Arman? Are you kidding? Arman can’t kill anyone. He is too much of a loudmouth for that sort of thing.”  
Foldo laughed. “That still leaves Iona.”  
“Ah. I’m sure if we team up, you and I,” Jussipo casually draped his arm over Foldo’s shoulders.  
It would have looked more natural if he didn’t partially have to get up to do this. “we can stop her. Probably.”

The sun had almost disappeared underneath the horizon, painting the sky a darker blue with a touch of orange to its end. Jussipo jumped up.  
“And now, I dare you to take a dive into this marvellous water here.”

Without further ado he ran to the sea. He didn’t get any further than the first, tiniest wave, however. His enthusiasm faded out like a candlelight in a snowstorm.  
Foldo got up slower, first removing his shoes. He walked over to Jussipo, dipped one toe into the water and swore.  
Jussipo laughed somewhat hysterically. “Foldo, did you just use a nasty word? It’s not as if the water is freezing or anything.”  
Foldo tried to shush him, but was hindered in doing so by his chattering teeth. Only for a second he stood to his ankles in the water, then he gave up and jumped back to the somewhat warmer sand. Jussipo soon followed Foldo out.

“You have such good ideas.” said Foldo with his arms tightly pressed to his body. His teeth were still chattering.  
“You know, for such a big guy you get cold pretty easily.” joked Jussipo.  
Foldo shot him a look, Jussipo just smiled brighter.  
“Here,” he said, and walked over slowly, careful not to step in the sharp shells littering the wet sand.  
He put both his hands on Foldo’s shoulders and started rubbing his arms.

Foldo froze up, but not in cold.

Jussipo coughed. “Yeah. Actually you have to slap yourself.”  
He pulled his arms away and demonstrated on himself, slapping both his arms. “It circulates the blood flow, the men on the market do it all the time.”

Foldo looked on, silent, as Jussipo went to retrieve his boots.  
“And you know what also helps?” Jussipo got back up and gave Foldo a small, manly pat. “Climbing.”

He rushed off in the direction of the cliff, leaving Foldo behind on the beach. Who, after a moment composing himself, followed him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more, because why not.  
> As ever: if you see a mistake feel free to point it out :)


	9. Seaside Rendezvous

That morning Piak was once again nowhere to be found.  
It irked Jussipo, who had watched him fall asleep and made sure to keep close, that the boy was so good at sneaking around. For the first time in his life he understood how his mother must’ve felt when the both of them had been smaller. Or, more likely, how she still felt like.  
He didn’t stay troubled for long though, because mere seconds after Jussipo discovered Piak’s disappearance, delightful yells drifted up from the beach.  
“Guys, you must feel this water,” Piak half screamed, half sang. “it’s reeeaaaly cold!”

Jussipo exchanged a short look with Foldo and walked to the edge.

Piak, much more daringly than both Foldo and Jussipo, was happily floating on his back. Every time a wave pushed him further ashore he lazily kicked his legs.  
“He’s gonna catch hypothermia.” Jussipo muttered.

At least he’d had the foresight to leave off his cap.

Arman, who had cast one look at Piak before setting off to the beach, now reached the sand and strode in angry paces to the water. What he said was partly washed away by the wind, but Jussipo was sure he caught glimpses of ‘irresponsible’, ‘importance of this mission’, ‘taking no part in lazing around’, ‘my father would never allow’ and more of the same.  
Piak’s reply was equally hard to hear, but it resulted in Arman angrily kicking off his boots and stepping into the sea. Three steps in he stopped to roll up his trouser legs.  
He dared not to go any deeper.

Piak splashed him with water and took shelter into an upcoming wave. When he resurfaced he shook the water out of his hair like a dog.

It was as if everybody had been awake for hours, because when Jussipo finished rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Iona had made her way down as well.  
She took no delay in trying to keep her clothes dry and stepped into the water, soon surpassing Arman. She grabbed Piak by the ankles and pulled him back to the beach. Piak then twisted in a way only kids can pull off and managed to make her stumble, partially pulling her into a big wave.  
They seemed to have a heated argument after that. Arman joined in, but wisely stayed out of their reach. Meanwhile Foldo was already halfway down.

Jussipo, now the only one left on the cliff, decided it was time to intervene.

It was funny how quickly you could no longer hear the birds. From the first step down the sound was drowned out by the sea. Of course the same applied in reverse: one step back on the cliff and the birdsong of blackbirds and sparrows greeted you up.  
Both were welcome sounds, he wondered what the world would be like if they could coexist.  
The most upper layer of the sand was pleasantly warm and the sunrays heated his face lazily. The peace did not last very long however. The closer he got, the more he could make out of what the others were saying.  
“We are this close to him,” he heard Iona say, “and since yesterday morning we have done nothing. You’re putting us right back where we were at the start of this journey.”  
“We can’t permit the distance to grow bigger again.” Arman agreed.

When he joined them he took a moment to take in the scene. It looked as if everyone suddenly was of the opinion that the best way to reinforce an argument, was to spray water at each other.  
He came to a halt next to Foldo, who had had the common sense to stay out whatever this was.  
“Why are you all so childish?” asked Jussipo. “And Piak, get out of there before you catch a cold.”  
Piak aborted his attempt to splash Arman.  
“It’s actually pretty nice when you get used to it.” he said, and swam further away as if he expected Jussipo to go in and fetch him.

For inexplicable reasons this caused a vehement reaction from Arman.

“FINE,” he burst out, “one hour!”  
He stomped back to the shore.  
Iona watched him go, she was viciously silent.

“Yes!” Piak called out joyfully, and dived back underwater as if he were a fish.

“What just happened?” Jussipo asked Foldo.  
Foldo shrugged.

Iona gave Piak one last shove and also got out.  
“I’ll be counting the seconds.” she warned both Piak and Arman, there was no doubt whether she meant it or not.  
She sat down some distance away and started making shapes in the sand with her knife.  
“I’m wasting my time with you.” she let them know.

At that time Arman returned, stripped off his outer garments. Jussipo shielded his eyes.  
“Ah man, I did not want to see that.”  
Arman shot him a glare he could not see. “It’s not as if I’m naked.”  
“I take it we’re staying here?” Foldo asked in general.  
“Letting Tiuri get away, by having a beach day.” Jussipo added, still covering his eyes. He snorted. “That actually rhymes.”  
“Only for one hour.” said Arman, pointing a finger in their direction while wading slowly into the water.  
“Why?” Jussipo asked. “And shouldn’t Foldo and I be involved in decisions like these?”  
“Pfft.” said Piak. “I’ve been over this with Iona and Arman already. Let’s not start this discussion again.”

Iona started stabbing the ground, it was a rather disturbing sight.

“You have absolutely no say in the matter.” Jussipo told his brother, next he hissed to Foldo: “How come he can convince them this easily?”  
“I believe in this case it might be a good thing,” he answered. “we deserve a break. Besides, maybe it’ll dampen their foul moods.”  
This last part he whispered, leaning in close.  
Jussipo swallowed. “Yeah, your probably right.”  
“Hey!” said Piak. “If you two are done conspiring you should come into the water!”

And so it came to be they stayed on the beach a while longer.  
The sun climbed higher. Soon the day grew hot and everyone found a different way to pass the time.  
Piak was still happily unaffected by the cold water and occasionally tried to convince the others to join him, without success. At least, Arman _did_ stay in the water, but he never got in any deeper than to his knees. When he was in, he stared at the horizon for a minute or two, before his feet got chilly and he hastily got out again. Piak, no matter how busy he was at the moment, never resisted calling him a coward.  
Iona ambitiously built sand fortresses, as close to the water as possible. It seemed to bring her immense pleasure whenever one of them collapsed due to the waves.  
At least she had put away her knife.  
Foldo was taking a walk along the shoreline, watching the ground in great concentration. From time to time he bended down to take something from the sand, which he either pocketed, or threw far into the sea.

Jussipo had napped on the warm sand, but now he sat up and lazily watched the rest. Foldo, who had walked so far he had for a moment turned into a faint figure, slowly came into focus again. He came up to them with a hand shielding his eyes, and picked a spot somewhere in between Iona and Jussipo.  
Next he emptied his pockets, displaying what must have been thirty different kinds of shells.  
There were pink hued and soft blue ones, fan formed, round and small ones, sharp looking things shaped like knives and one big black shell that sat covered in pimply grey dots. Foldo patiently began sorting them.

Jussipo sat watching Arman, who had finally dared a dive that splashed up more water than the biggest of waves, when Foldo approached him.

“I don’t know how he can endure it for that long.” he said, nodding at Piak.  
Jussipo shook his head. “He’s insane, that one. Climbing on and jumping in everything he comes across like a headless chicken.”  
He scooched over and patted the place next to him in invitation, but Foldo remained standing.  
He had his hands clasped behind his back as he looked over at his shells. The collection was one short of a full square.  
“That’s a good comparison. I don’t know much about chickens,” he glanced over at Jussipo, “but my father used to have goats. Mother says they clambered all over me when I was younger.”

Jussipo chuckled at the mental image it provided.

“Not sure what I think of goats,” said Jussipo. “they have such weird eyes. Their pupils are just vertical stripes. How are you supposed to go smoothly through life, looking through a stripe all day? I couldn’t do it.”  
Foldo swept some sand off his chin with a closed hand.  
“I always thought it has something to do with what they eat.” he said. “Goats eat everything.”  
“Well,” said Jussipo. “we eat close to everything too, don’t we?”

They mused on this for a while. Until they heard a big splash as Iona gave up on wrecking sand castles and took a sprint into the sea.

Jussipo once again patted the spot next him. “Come sit.”  
Foldo shook his head and fidgeted with something in his hand.  
“Actually, I came here to,” He held out his arm to Jussipo and pulled it away again. “I thought this one, or actually, that you might find it, as I do at least, er,” Foldo trailed off and once again held up a fist. “here.”  
He slowly opened it in Jussipo’s hand, who had gotten op, curious. Their fingers briefly touched when he pulled back, and for a deranged second Jussipo thought he took all warmth with it, but when he looked he saw a small, sandy coloured shell. It was still cold from the sea.  
“It’s a bit stupid.” Foldo admitted.  
The shell was simple and flat, but had a spiral of brown breaking through the ochre like a crack. It shimmered in the sun, showing off it’s warm colours.  
Jussipo looked up to Foldo.  
“That might be the prettiest thing anyone has ever given to me.” he said.  
A look of relief crossed Foldo’s face.  
“Except for the lute?” he asked, droll.  
Jussipo grinned. “Except for the lute.”  
He examined the shell again. “Where did you find it?”  
Foldo awkwardly pointed in the general direction he just came from.  
Jussipo shifted his weight from foot to foot. “It’s magnificent. Thank you.”

He felt the rising urge to hug Foldo, but wasn’t sure it was appropriate. Instead, he delicately picked the small thing up between forefinger and thumb and fished out the clean handkerchief his mother always insisted he took with him. He gently wrapped the shell in the cloth before putting it back into his pocket.  
“Wouldn’t want it to crush in there.” he said.

Foldo looked rather pleased.  
“No,” he said, “that would be a pity.”

Some distance away Piak and Iona were chasing after crabs like sanderlings, running back and forth in the rhythm of the sea. Arman boasted about already having caught two.

They bumped shoulders on their way over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't give this one a final check, so please alert me if you see a mistake. I'll probably give all the chapters a check up one of these days.  
> The chapter title is from Queen (literally the song 'Seaside Rendezvous'). If you've never heard it I can really recomment it to you. To say it in the famous words of Marie Kondō: it really sparks joy.


	10. Klaas' mom is a misogynist

Not much later everyone lay drying up on the sand, gathered in a loose circle.  
Piak had emerged victoriously with a bunch of seaweed, one dead crab and a few, almost transparent small fish, which he showed around in his cupped hands before setting them free again.  
Jussipo had used the distraction to retrieve his lute, though he was careful to keep it out of the sand.  
He strummed a few strings experimentally, but didn’t play anything yet.  
“Any requests?” he asked.  
He looked around the group. Iona was lying on her back with her eyes closed and didn’t give any indication she had heard him. Foldo was thinking about it, as well as Arman, who was sitting back and let the sand glide through his fingers. Luckily he had all his clothes back on.  
“Yara’s blood pigs.” Piak said suddenly, his hair dripping wet and a mischievous glint in his eyes. The sand around him was slightly discoloured.  
Jussipo pulled a face. “Ew, no. Something else.”  
“The tale of the mute bard.” Iona said flippantly, opening up an eye. Jussipo ignored her.  
“What about Isabelle?” Arman suggested. This earned him a surprised look from Foldo.  
“That is actually a rather good one.” he said.  
Jussipo shook his head in regret. “I don’t know how to play that one.”

“I know,” said Piak, he sat up in excitement. “ _Klaas_.”  
Jussipo chuckled. “Alright.”  
Seeing there were no objections, he started playing the song.  
It had been a while since he last played it, having learned it at a younger age to practice. He almost never played popular songs anymore. That would be too easy, the art was to think of something yourself.  
Still, a once learned song never got out of your muscle memory and Klaas made him think of his mother, sarcastically singing it while she tucked them in bed. It was not your regular lullaby, but it had become a ritual of sorts. Piak must have chosen it for the memory.

“Klaas spoke with his mom,  
about wanting to get married  
‘Klaas you will change your mind,  
when you listen to my words, resigned

“‘Marrying is in its best  
full worries and grave danger  
After every fun a nest,  
till you all eat from the manger

“‘Klaas never ever marry,  
or you’ll get in great trouble  
Klaas, you will never be merry  
if you ever marry

“‘All those girls from the city,  
are so full of flaws  
The one’s a rabbit, the other void,  
when she gets no little one, you’ll get my point

“‘Being married is a plaque  
with a just cheated girl,  
you soon realise your mistake,  
when between father and cook you twirl

“‘Klaas never ever marry,  
or you’ll get in great trouble  
Klaas, you will never be merry  
if you ever marry

“‘Marry a cripple,  
it’s ai, ai ai, my leg  
Marry a cross-eyed lady,  
she takes two for one, oh I beg.’

“Klaas got quite a fright,  
hearing his mother’s words  
Now he wants no wife nor bride,  
Songs on the flute are all he’ll provide

“‘Klaas never ever marry,  
or you’ll get in great trouble  
Klaas, you will never be merry  
if you ever marry.’

“Klaas never ever marries  
because he fears for trouble  
Klaas will never be merry  
because he’ll never marry.”

Jussipo made a little bow around his lute.  
“And next,” Piak interjected the meagre applause, before Jussipo had even straightened. “The blacksmith.”  
“Ah,” said Arman, pleased. “Father’s favourite.”

There was a silence as everyone processed this.  
Then Jussipo turned to Piak and said carefully: “I assume you wanted to stay in theme, but I’m not going to play that. It’s too violent.”

“And quite misogynistic.” said Foldo, side-eyeing Arman.  
Piak screwed up his nose. “What’s a misamicnotic?”  
“Misogynistic.” Foldo repeated. “It’s when something, or someone, is terribly rude to, or about, women.”  
“Understatement.” Iona muttered.  
She didn’t seem any more interested in the turn the conversation was taking than the request for songs, still lying in the sun with her eyes closed.  
“It’s a bit like that last song you chose,” Foldo continued. “It’s not very nice.”  
“Excuse me?” said Jussipo, slightly offended.  
Foldo looked at him. “Yes?”  
“Seeing as I was the one who _played_ the song,” he said. “What’s so offensive about it?”  
“The text.” said Foldo. “It describes women in a very shallow way. And marriage too.”  
Jussipo blinked. “Yes? That’s the joke of it.”  
“It’s not especially funny, is it.” said Foldo. He sat up straighter. “Not to be rude or anything. It’s just not, er-”  
“Not hilarious?” Arman supplied.  
Piak crossed his arms. “I think it’s funny.”  
“Considering music exist mostly for entertainment,” said Jussipo. “it has to be entertaining.”  
“Yes, alright, maybe it’s a matter of taste.” said Foldo. “But to be so condescending as to write a song-”  
“Look,” Jussipo interrupted, putting the lute away because he was gripping it too tight. “We have a moral here. In the song. Obviously it’s about a mother who doesn’t want to lose her son and, as is said in the very last line, Klaas does not live a happy life with the choice he made.”

“Huh, I hadn’t thought of it like that.” said Arman.

“And the ‘fun’ in it, is that it’s not true: the joke is the man in the song is wrong, or missing out on something.” Jussipo continued.  
“But what of people who only hear the first layer?” said Foldo with a small nod to Arman and Piak. “They’ll be taught to see women as flawed people. More flawed than men.”  
“Well, that’s the problem of the receiver, isn't it? Not of the song itself.”  
Their voices echoed loudly, bouncing off the cliff’s walls they were seated close to. A crow, who had been watching them in interest to see if they’d brought any food, decided it wasn’t worth the trouble and flew off.  
“I think a songwriter should not avoid responsibility like that. When you make something it’s your duty to check how the meaning comes across, as well as what you think they should hear.”  
“If I may be so blunt,” said Jussipo, “you can’t possibly check with every person in the world.”  
“Guys,” said Piak, throwing up his hands, “It’s just a lame song.”  
Arman nodded. “No need for all the fuss.”  
Jussipo, though objecting to the term ‘lame’, agreed. Foldo, however, did not: “With ‘lame’ songs like these the image of women, and marriage in fact, is altered. If something is accepted in popular culture doesn’t mean it’s right.” he exclaimed.  
“As a person who has played this song many times,” said Jussipo, “I can tell you it did not alter my view on women whatsoever. And on marriage, as far as the two are related.”  
Piak frowned. “It has for me.”  
“You’re ten years old Piak, everything reeking remotely of marriage, or girls, is gross to you.”  
“Hey, I’m almost eleven! And I have friends who happen to be girls.”

“Who cares.”

There was the sound of rustling clothes as Iona finally got up.  
“Are you done?” she said, fixing Foldo and Jussipo with a look.  
“Yes, Iona, what do you think of this?” Arman asked.  
“That you’re all pea-brained.” she said. “Why the hell should I value anything some guy writes? The only offensive thing here, is your discussion putting such an emphasis on this ‘difference’ between women and men, while I’m literally the same as you. If not better. If I’ll write a song about how stupid you all are, would you consider is scandalous or what?”  
“Iona, I’m sorry-” Foldo began.  
“Stop being such a wimp and shut it already.” she interrupted him.  
She turned to Arman and effectively ended the discussion with her next question: “Your father’s favourite song is the Blacksmith? How’s your mom doing?”  
“She’s well, I think?” Arman said, startled by the switch of topic.

“Ahem.” Jussipo picked up the lute again. “And now, to wash away the bitter taste of that conversation, the most dramatic song you’ve ever heard.”

He strummed a few chords.

“My love seems to hate me-”

But he didn’t get any further than that, because Arman shot up with wide eyes and reached for his crossbow. Foldo automatically took out his sword, but stopped when he had looked properly. His eyes briefly flitted to Jussipo, before returning to whatever Arman was aiming at.  
Iona had jumped up as well and was quick to make her way around the others.

That’s when he heard the voice:  
“Arman? Iona? Jussipo? Foldo? What are you all doing here?!”

It was Tiuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Are they still on the beach?' you think as you read this. Well yes. I love the beach. Is this a way for me to say I miss being on the beach with my friends? Definitely.  
> The song Jussipo sings is from the Belgian band 'Laïs', who take medieval texts and give them new melodies.  
> The song is called 'klaas', and is originally much better, I'm just a bad translator.  
> The blacksmith is also their song ('t Smidje), which is about a man who very much regrets being married and takes out all his anger on the anvil. It's not as violent as I made it out to be, but a teensy little bit.  
> And the song Jussipo tries to sing later is 'De Wanhoop' (which translates to despair), also from Laïs. As the title already suggests, it really is dramatic. https://youtu.be/UjrG-PPkiro  
> You see I found their music very fitting, or I have a slight obsession for medieval songs, who knows.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> p.s.. That discussion on sexism just sort of happened.


	11. Who can't open a letter?

How Tiuri could have found them was no mystery. They were sitting on a beach which was plainly visible from literally every spot on the cliff, after all.  
Save for the woods, there was no vegetation to take cover in. Which left the massive cliff wall as the only option, where you could press up against if you didn't want to be seen from above. That they weren’t bothered by this before was a testament to how much they’d let their guard down. Still, it had worked out in their favor, as it brought the subject of their manhunt right to them.  
The real question was why Tiuri had turned back. Why would he exchange his freedom for their company?

Judging from the way Tiuri confusedly looked down at the knife held to his throat, he himself did not know either.

“Iona,” he asked, “what are you doing?”  
She said nothing in response, but just smiled broadly.  
The rest, rooted to the spot, stared at them in a silence so deafening it contributed heartily to the ever-increasing tension. The sea, however, took no notice and gently rushed along as if this was the joyful reunion of long lost friends.

Foldo was the first to break away from his frozen state. He took a tentative step around Arman’s pointed crossbow and carefully touched Iona by the elbow.  
“Iona,” he said, “please don’t do anything unwise.”  
She laughed, but didn't let her gaze leave Tiuri for even a second.  
“Unwise?” she asked. “I’m literally doing what we’re supposed to be doing.”

“Supposed to be doing? I don’t understand-”

Tiuri words turned into a strangled yell as an ultra-thin stipe of blood trickled down his neck.  
Foldo pulled on Iona’s arm in panic, which gave Tiuri room to take a few steps back.  
The reaction of the others was instant: lightning quick Iona twisted out of his grip and pointed her knife in his direction. She took a defensive stance and surveyed Foldo quietly.  
Arman, who still held Tiuri in place with his crossbow, had a more vocal way of reacting.  
“What in the devil are you doing?! You almost let him go!” he yelled, and he stepped closer to Tiuri as if to assure he was, in fact, still there.  
Foldo held up his hands, willing to explain his actions: “I just think we should talk first.”  
“Talk.” said Iona scornfully. “We’ve finally got him after six days and you think we should _talk_?”  
“What are you talking about?” said Tiuri “Did you follow me out of the chapel after all? Did you see what happened?”  
Arman laughed at him, swaggering another step closer. “See what happened? We did not need to see what happened. We heard everything. Looks like you are a murderer as well as a good-for-nothing.”  
He paused his speech to pull a mock-impressed face and continued: “Great for us, now we can finally get the knighthood _we_ deserved, and _you_ stole from us.”

He signalled for one of the others to rope up Tiuri’s arms.

After a moment where nothing happened, Iona blew a puff of air from her nostrils.  
“Have to do everything by myself.” she muttered.  
Little stones and sand, set loose by her feet, dropped into the depths and onto their hair as she made her way up to retrieve a rope.

Meanwhile, Jussipo struggled to keep Piak in check.  
When it became apparent it was Tiuri who had found them, Jussipo had instinctively moved in front of him. Piak did not like this in the slightest, because it blocked his sight.  
“I just want a closer look!” he whined and almost outmanoeuvred his brother by ducking away under his legs.  
“No.” Jussipo told him for the hundredth time, and he gripped Piak tightly by the collar of his coat.

After checking Piak couldn’t escape, he could finally give his attention to the display in front of him.  
Ever since his conversation with Foldo, there was one question that he couldn't get out of his head.  
He decided it was time for some clarification.  
“Tiuri,” he said, “I have to ask, why did you run all this way?”  
Foldo nodded in agreement. “Look, if there was some mistake, or accident, you should’ve stayed at home. Maybe people would’ve understood. I’m sure you didn’t kill him on purpose.” he said.  
Tiuri frowned at them. “Killed who? There must be a misunderstanding. The red riders, they-”

Arman turned to Foldo and Jussipo in mirth, making the crossbow wobble so dangerously in his hand that Jussipo took an involuntary step forward, his free arm outstretched. Piak took the opportunity to slip out of his coat and stopped next to Foldo to get a closer look.  
“The red riders?” said Arman, “What an incredibly bad excuse. They are not even close!”  
He quirked up an eyebrow to Foldo. “And you still think he is innocent or what?”

It seemed Tiuri was getting fed up. “Arman,” he said. “I knew you were dumb, but this is reaching new levels. The black knight was mortally wounded by the red riders. He had stolen a letter which now has to be delivered the king of Unauwen. I don’t have much time!”

Foldo exchanged a look with Jussipo.  
“What’s in the letter?” Foldo asked Tiuri.

Piak had gotten up to Arman and scrutinised Tiuri as if he were a difficult puzzle.  
Tiuri lowered his eyes. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I can’t open it.”  
“You can’t open a letter?” Piak asked. “How can you not open a letter.”  
Arman snorted. “Because there is no letter. _And_ he is a moron.”  
“Of course there is a letter. It’s just encased!” Tiuri cried out. “Look people, it’s a matter of life and dea- Ouch!”  
Iona had returned and roughly pulled back his arms.  
“Where is his horse?” she asked the others. “I couldn’t see it anywhere.”

When the answer was not forthcoming she glanced at everyone in turns like a strict teacher.

Jussipo shrugged, Foldo stared worriedly at the rough way she bound up Tiuri’s wrists and Arman just looked at her blankly.

Iona gave an exasperated sigh. “Did _any_ of you ask him _important_ questions?”  
Arman pulled up his chin. “I’ll let you know that we have. We just hadn’t gotten to the horse part yet.”  
“Well, while you were doing _that_ I was busy checking out the area.”  
She pulled the tightly knotted hands backwards, making Tiuri stumble.  
“Are you here alone?” she asked him.  
“Yes.” he answered through gritted teeth.  
Iona gave another pull. “You sure about that.”

Tiuri nodded shortly.  
“And where is the horse?”  
Tiuri gave a small shrug, he only got as far as his painful arms allowed.  
Iona picked up her knife again, touching the cold surface to the back of his neck.  
“Where’s the horse?” she repeated.  
“How would I know. The thing always runs away if there’s any trouble.” said Tiuri.  
Iona dragged the knife across his skin not unlike earlier that day in the sand. “Why don’t I believe you.”

Before she could do any more she was stopped, by Jussipo this time.  
“Iona, be reasonable.” he said. “Are we really going to torture him about a _horse_?”  
She smiled at him coolly. “Why not?”  
Nevertheless, she put the knife away with an impressive spinning motion.

“You have to listen to me,” Tiuri begged, making eye contact with Foldo. “I need do get to Unauwen as soon as possible.”  
He was, once again, prevented from elaborating any further by Arman, who had bundled up a piece of cloth and shoved it between Tiuri’s teeth.  
He spat it out almost immediately.  
“What,” said Tiuri, glowering at him, “is your _problem_.”  
Arman pursed his lips. “If you’re not going to tell the truth, you might as well shut up.” he said.

Jussipo shook his head and raised his eyes to the sky. “Unbelievable.”

“Come on. The day’s not over yet and I want to get to Dagonaut soon.” Iona commanded, she already pulled Tiuri backwards with her towards the cliff.

Piak followed instantly, bombarding Tiuri with questions about this letter he couldn’t open.

“Is this really the right way?” Foldo asked no one in particular.  
Jussipo answered anyway: “Maybe not.”  
Arman looked between the two of them and huffed. “You two are really strange you know that? You should be rejoicing! We have captured Tiuri!”  
“Yes but you heard what he told us.” said Foldo. “Maybe it truly is a misunderstanding.”  
“That gibberish?” said Arman. “All lies. You believe in the tooth fairy too, or what?”  
“Arman, stop it.” Jussipo hissed.  
“Whatever.” He gave them one last disbelieving stare before disappearing up the cliff.

A crow, probably the same as before, took the returned peace as an opportunity to investigate.  
It had only been one small hour since they had sat there, discussing songs with the sun warming their backs. Playing in the sea without a care in the world, as if they were little kids. As if they were friends.  
It already felt like a lifetime ago.

After hopping closer, the crow cocked his head expectantly as if to ask what they were still doing there.  
“Come on,” Jussipo told Foldo. “we won’t get any answers standing around here either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi


	12. Dispute and bonding

Tiuri tried to talk to them at first. Or more accurately, he asked why they were doing this and to whom they were taking him at regular intervals.

After having received no satisfactory reply several miles further, he trailed off into sullen silence.

They travelled along the plain because it was the fastest way, but after spending an entire morning in the sun, the promise of shade made them long for the trees. If anything, it motivated them to go faster. They covered the distance pretty quickly.  
Soon they would be back in the forest that covered the biggest part of the trip.

A while later Tiuri was prompted into speech by Foldo, who asked him about the letter he was talking about earlier. In reply he picked up where he left off and tried to persuade them to set him free. Again he didn’t get much of a chance to explain, because Iona fetched the cloth Arman had provided earlier and stuffed it in his mouth, this time enforcing it with a bit of rope she tightened around his head.  
Of course, Foldo strongly disagreed. He tried to convince Iona and Arman of the importance to hear Tiuri out, but Arman only demanded to know why he wished to speak with him in the first place. Their job was to capture him, not hearing him whine.

Now Tiuri rode upfront on the back of Arman’s horse.  
He was closely watched by Iona, who rode behind them, and Piak, who was far too curious for his own good and had forsaken Jussipo for a spot with her.  
She begrudgingly let him sit behind her.

After what must have been two more hours, Jussipo could no longer stand the silence and sought distraction in the company of Foldo.

“So, what do you think?” he asked as he approached him, “Is Tiuri a misunderstood hero, or a big fat liar.”  
Foldo gave no answer, but inclined his head a little, which Jussipo interpreted as a sign to continue.  
“To be honest, it sounds a little fake. The red riders are supposed to be up in Eviellan with that Viridian guy.”  
“I don’t know.” said Foldo. “That doesn’t mean they can’t be here now. When you go into battle you don’t pick slow horses. And besides, Viridian is on his way back to Unauwen, if you can believe the court’s gossip.”  
“Fair enough,” said Jussipo, “but to send _Tiuri_ on a mission with vital information for the king of Unauwen?”

They turned to Tiuri in unison and took in his dorky appearance. At the moment he was trying to cling to the fur of Arman’s horse with his bound hands, so he would not fall off.  
Foldo’s face fell. “If we all just listened to him we wouldn’t have to guess. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

Jussipo bit his lip and nodded a few times to nothing in particular.  
After a while he said: “Of course _you_ would think so.”

Foldo turned back to him. “Sorry?”  
Jussipo broke off his hazy stare into nothingness and looked Foldo in the eye.  
“You think there’s a reasonable explanation for everything. You’d never believe anyone could do evil things just because he, or she, is evil.”

Foldo frowned.

“You are too sweet,” Jussipo continued, “you are so ready to believe in anything that might redeem him.”  
“Are you calling me naive?”  
Jussipo shook his head. “No.”  
“Because we haven’t even given him an opportunity to explain yet.” said Foldo. “All we’ve done is ignore him or cut him off. You say I have made my mind up from the start, but how come you’re so convinced he’s lying? Did you even try to talk to him?”

The corners of Jussipo’s mouth pulled down unhappily, as if weights were suddenly attached to them. The turn this conversation had took was not enjoyable in the slightest, and even though he knew Foldo had a sore spot for injustice, Jussipo couldn’t shake the feeling that this time he had really disappointed him. He didn’t like it.

“Fol,” he said softly, “what’s the matter?”  
Foldo moved a hand around as if to say that it was nothing, his expression slightly glum.  
“It’s just,” he said, “I thought you were with me on this.”  
Jussipo’s answering smile felt a little weak around the edges. “I’m not saying I’m not, I’m just trying to keep an open mind to all possibilities.”

Foldo didn’t look convinced, he spurred his horse faster, signalling an end to the conversation.

“Please excuse me,” he said. “I need some time to think.”  
And left Jussipo behind, staring at his retreating back.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “We’ll figure it out.”  
If it was in response to Foldo, or to himself, he did not know.

The sun had just begun to set when they finally moved into the forest.  
Despite what Iona had said about wanting to get home soon, it was noticeable that from then on the group was in less of a hurry. Of course, having no longer to chase after someone did that to you.  
It also didn’t help that they were sunburned, all their clothes were stiff from the salt water and that sand kept being be found in the strangest places.

When evening fell they divided the tasks to set up camp.  
To his own great delight, it was Jussipo’s turn to collect firewood again. Luckily this time he needn’t do it alone.  
The dark grey clouds that lay gathered ahead kept moving closer. The air felt muggy, and in the course of the day a quiet had settled over the area. He paired with Iona, so between them they could gather enough to keep a fire going in case of a storm.

Reluctant to let Tiuri out of her sight, she sent them on their task in a hurry.  
Jussipo, being a social butterfly, had no qualms spending time with her. Though she was difficult to read.  
Iona set about everything with a single-minded focus, and had a tendency to prove herself to be superior, albeit without the bragging Arman always paired it with. She seemed to be in control of everything she did or said, which, in a way, made her very mature.

At the same time, she really wasn’t.

They had picked a spot deep in the woods, far from the edge of the cliff. Even so, specks of salt water gathered by the wind made Jussipo’s hands dry and the wood unpleasant to pick up.  
While they were busy Iona kept glancing behind trees and over her shoulder, suspicious of every sound she heard. And in a forest there are quite a few.

“What are you looking for?” Jussipo asked her, after what must have been the twelfth time she crept up on a bird.  
The dove in question flew away in panic. Iona shifted her gaze back to the branches in front of her and got on with her work.  
“Firewood.” she deadpanned. “What about you.”  
“Since when do you need to sneak up on firewood?” wondered Jussipo, while concentrated on the heavy process of peeling a big piece of bark from a tree.  
Iona gave her surroundings one final, assessing look. “Just a suspicion.” she said.

Jussipo succeeded in peeling off the bark in one piece and slung it over his shoulder with a triumphant whistle. Satisfied with the loot, he gave his attention to Iona.  
“Do you _ever_ let your guard down?” he wanted to know.  
She frowned at him. “What do you mean. I’m acting normal.”  
“My point exactly.”  
“Whatever.” Iona grabbed a large piece of dead root still stuck in the earth and pulled it out without a problem. “As if your mindless attitude is any better. Expecting everything will fall into place, do you?”  
Jussipo shrugged carelessly. “Most of the time it does, doesn’t it.”  
Iona gave no reply, but dragged a branch which was too large to carry closer and stamped on it till it broke in two.

Jussipo assumed the conversation was over and got on with collecting, but it appeared Iona wasn’t done. After picking up two more branches she said: “It must be great to get what you want without having to do anything for it.”  
“What makes you think I didn’t? I had to train to get this good at fighting, just like you. Not to mention the hours practicing the lute, although I was born with talent of course. Hey!”  
The slap to the back of his head had come out of nowhere. He rubbed the painful spot.  
“What was that for?” he asked in annoyance.

Iona had already walked back to her previous spot and was snapping twigs as if nothing had happened.  
“Don’t _ever_ compare yourself to me.”  
Jussipo grumbled something unintelligible in response.

“I always wondered why you’re so ambitious.” he said after a sullen silence. “Are your parents really strict or something?”  
She ignored the question, but acknowledged the first part. “I have to be.”  
Her shoulders were drawn up in tension.  
“Why? Sometimes it’s good to live a little Iona.”

This seemed to strike a chord, which was something Jussipo should be accustomed to, not?

Iona snarled and looked ready to either stab him, or turn on her heel and walk away. Jussipo took a small step back, just in case it was the former.  
“You wouldn’t understand.” she snapped. “You’ve been handed everything since the day you were born.”  
“Hey now,” Jussipo held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I haven’t-”  
“Don’t make it worse.” Iona interrupted him, “Stupid parsnip head.”  
She was quick to compose herself however.  
“I guess what I’m saying is, you can’t know what it is like to work for everything you have. No.” she pointed a finger in his direction when he tried to interrupt. “Every stupid little thing, okay? You have to understand this is my only chance. If we bring Tiuri back, I get to be a knight, if we fail, I won’t. Simple as that. And I'll be damned if I don't try my absolute best to achieve that.  
I can't pass up on this, especially after he ruined it by leaving that chapel.” she snapped a twig. “I’ve worked my whole life to get here, and there comes along some stupid boy who takes it away, just like that. But hey, we have him now. Maybe, for once, everything will work out.”  
The sarcasm in her voice clouded the little hope she had that it would. At the same time, she knew that if it didn’t, it wouldn’t be because of any mistake _she_ made.

Jussipo evaded her eyes guiltily, recalling the very different conversation he’d had about this with Foldo.  
The same questions kept circling around in his head, any answer only conjuring up more. It seemed one minute a decision sounded logical, and the next it was utterly ridiculous. Why was it so difficult to form an opinion on this? It should be an easy enough decision; either take Tiuri to Sir Fantumar, or don’t.  
It was a shame things were not as simple as that.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he saw Iona regarding him with an unreadable look, he wondered how long he’d stayed silent.  
“You feeling alright?” she asked.  
For a long time apparently. His thoughts were far too much of a mess to explain, and even if he could he didn’t want to. Jussipo debated putting on a smile and brushing it off, but that didn’t feel right.  
In the end he simply said: “You know what? No, I’m not.”  
The admission allowed the stress of the last few days to finally catch up with him, it left him drained.  
“Are you?” he asked.

A group of sparrows flew from tree to tree over their heads, chirping excitedly, Iona looked at them in thought as she considered this. It didn’t take long before she arrived at a conclusion.  
“You know what I do whenever the world’s unfair?” she said, while picking out the largest branch she had collected and unceremoniously dropping the rest to the ground.

She weighed it in her hand as if feeling the balance of a sword. Next she walked up to a tree, swung the branch backwards and let it hit with such a big slap the bark trembled. That wasn’t the end of it, though. Splinters flew around her as she kept beating it over and over again.  
She swung her whole body into the movement, slightly bowed over and knees bend. She only had to slam the branch four times until it was completely destroyed.

Jussipo gaped at her from a safe distance.  
“That’s… effective.” he said.  
Iona shoved a strand of her hair, which was otherwise so tightly tied, behind her ear and grinned at him.  
“It really is. Here,” she offered him another branch from her pile. “try it yourself.”  
He took the branch and stepped, somewhat hesitantly, to the closest tree.  
“Go on then.” Iona urged him.  
“Alright, here we go…” he muttered, and took a swing.  
He had to close his eyes against the splintering wood, but otherwise the motion was pretty satisfactory. Jussipo let out a startled laugh and took another, bigger swing.  
“Your idea of fun isn’t half bad!” he told Iona over the noise.

With every hit a bit of tension bled away, the exertion left his body satisfactory limp, like jumping into bed after a full day of training. To let the anger build up, using the energy as strength and releasing it without having to hurt anyone, was a good feeling indeed. Though he supposed Foldo would find the exercise harmful to the poor tree, which had in no way deserved the beating.

He felt somewhat giddy when he was done, but in a good way.

“Feeling better?” Iona asked him.  
“Weirdly enough, yes.” he answered. “You know, it reminds me of something Piak and I used to do.”  
“What?”  
He dropped the remaining stub to the ground and cast a look around to check no one was near them.

Then he took a deep breath, tilted back his head and yelled at the top of his lungs.

The few remaining birds who had until now endured their presence flew away in search of more quiet treetops. They weren’t the only creatures bewildered by the display, when Jussipo finished he saw Iona staring at him as if he’d gone mad.

He cleared his throat.  
“It’s not that good for your voice, but some situations ask for an exception.” he said. “Want to give it a try?”  
Iona shook her head, but she seemed amused.  
“Aw, come on,” Jussipo gestured for her to come closer. “I did your thing. It’s only fair you do mine.”  
“No doubt you’ve been told this before, but you’re weird.” said Iona.  
Nevertheless, she got up next to him and tilted her head as well.  
“I’ll count down. On three.” said Jussipo. “One, two, th-”

Iona screamed so loud he had to cover his ears.

“-ree… Did you _have_ to make it a competition?”  
Iona looked very pleased with herself. Jussipo eyed her warily, estimating if it was safe to get out of his cowered position. He was certain his eardrums wouldn’t survive a second time.

When Iona had caught her breath she took some time to size him up. But instead of rendering him deaf, suddenly all the fight left her body. It made her look more vulnerable than he’d ever expected to see.  
Her voice was slightly hoarse when she spoke up: “They’re dead.”

Jussipo blinked at her, caught off guard.  
“Who are?” he asked, stupidly.  
Iona’s expression closed off immediately, the wall around her rising up far more quickly than she’d let it crumble down.  
“My parents.”  
She stated this as if it was a minor inconvenience. Jussipo was sure that if he said something stupid again like ‘I’m sorry’, or showed pity in any other way, she would not take it well.

The time period wherein it was socially acceptable to come up with a response had never passed this quick.

“You know what’s even better?” he said in the end.  
Iona furrowed her brows. “What is?”  
“When you yell at the same time.”

So they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pff I'm behind schedule and a bit sleep deprived. Sorry if I missed mistakes, or writing skills in general.


	13. No need to be so shell shocked

They were laughing when they re-entered camp. Arman, ever the spoilsport, came up to them immediately.  
“Where have the two of you been?” he said. “It has been over an hour!”  
Jussipo lifted his arms with difficulty to emphasise the large quantity of wood he was carrying.  
“It takes time to come up with results like these.” he joked, and peeked over Arman’s shoulder at their captive.  
“How’s our Tiuri doing? Still silent I see.”

Tiuri glared at him. He was tightly bound to a tree, but also had been tucked in with a blanket. It made for a peculiar combination, and was probably courtesy of Foldo.

“Seriously though, can’t we take it off? It looks ridiculous.” said Jussipo, addressing Arman again and referring to the gag in Tiuri’s mouth.

Before Arman could answer Foldo came into view behind him.  
“I wanted to, but Arman won’t let me.” he said, concern lacing his voice.  
Arman reacted in the way of someone who’s argued about this one time too many: “Because he only talks shit! And he might call for help.”  
“To whom?” Foldo asked.  
Arman frowned, deep in thought. But not for very long.  
“That is beside the point. You two.” He sternly turned back to Iona and Jussipo. “You shouldn’t have been gone this long. We thought something had happened.”

“Aw Arman,” Jussipo deposited the branches on top of where Iona had dropped hers and brought a hand up to his heart. “I’m touched. You do care.”  
“We thought we heard screams.” Foldo elaborated.

Jussipo caught Iona’s eye. She snorted.

Soon the both of them burst into laughter again.

-

It was in the middle of the night when Jussipo startled awake.  
He opened his eyes to a slightly cloudy sky, where the stars peeked through curiously, and listened intently for what had woken him up.  
The crickets provided such a constant noise it could almost be mistaken for silence, the sound only interrupted by the crackling fire. For the rest there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Just when Jussipo closed his eyes again he heard a whisper. Voices and footsteps.  
He sat up, hand instantly going to his sword. Cautiously he turned to the left of him, and to the right.  
Nothing.  
The moon illuminated the camp in an eerie silver, as far as he could see everyone else was asleep.  
Shadows flickered by the campfire, appearing one moment to be blurry and the next so sharply defined they looked like solid objects.

A stumbling noise, more whispers coming from behind him. The horses!  
He twisted around.  
Someone was standing between the horses. It was difficult to see at first, but once Jussipo’s eyes got used to the dark he could see the person was brushing one of the horse’s fur.  
He relaxed. At this hour, it could only be one of them. A look cast to the opposite end of camp confirmed his suspicion: the spot underneath a pine tree, which Foldo had picked several hours earlier, was now indeed empty.

They all cared for their horses, with the common sense that if you did not, you would not get far on any trip. But Foldo, kind to all things as he was, took a special liking to his chestnut mare. He was constantly petting her and talked to her as if she were human.

Funnily enough, from time to time they caught Arman doing this as well, though he’d never admit to it.

Foldo’s fingers carded through his horse’s mane as he whispered to her, probably about getting her an apple tomorrow, or other nonsense talk. He brushed the dust off her fur in rhythmical movements, the sound of it was almost enough to lull Jussipo into sleep again.

Jussipo was sure that, apart for the first few frantic seconds, he’d stayed quiet. He hadn’t wanted to disturb Foldo too much after their conversation that afternoon, but he must have made himself known somehow because, after giving his horse’s nose one final pat, Foldo made his way over and sat down beside him.

They stared up at the stars for a while. The wind had picked up again and made the trees sway from side to side like a mother cradling a baby.  
It was quiet for such a long time, Jussipo began to suspect Foldo hadn’t meant to sit there after all, but somehow managed to pick the wrong spot.

He startled when a voice broke the silence.

“I’m sorry about earlier today.” said Foldo. “I am a bit stressed out by the situation, I suppose. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”  
“You call that snapping?” Jussipo gave him a small smile. “It’s alright. I can be pretty annoying sometimes. It’s a family trait. Of course with me the emphasis mostly lies on pretty, instead of annoying.”  
He blinked, mockingly fluttering his eyelashes. Foldo huffed out a laugh.  
“Really though,” said Jussipo “I’m sorry too.”  
Foldo nodded solemnly. “Apology accepted.”

The sound of gentle snoring filled a comfortable silence that lasted until Foldo suddenly remembered something.  
“About the song, however…” he said.  
“Argh, the song.” Jussipo hid his face in his hands, making his next words come out muffled. “Please don’t tell me you want to start up _that_ discussion again.”  
Foldo bumped his shoulder softly with his own. “It wasn’t that bad.”  
Jussipo shook his head disbelievingly, his face still hidden.  
“Don’t worry.” said Foldo. “I just feel like we’ve been at odds all day. And that feels-, well, odd.”

The wind blew cold air through Jussipo’s sleeves, he hugged his knees close to his chest and watched the embers from the fire fly away over their heads. A thought irked him, as it had irked him since that afternoon. He decided to voice it, keeping it light with a joke.  
“You were particularly offended. I would almost assume the song spoiled the wedding you were preparing.”

The firelight danced over Foldo’s face, alternately illuminating and hiding his sunburned cheekbones, which had just become a little more red. Jussipo’s heart stumbled like a clumsy oaf and plummeted down towards his stomach.  
“Wait.” he said. “You hadn’t really, had you?”  
“No.” said Foldo, but it didn’t sound very convincing. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Jussipo narrowed his eyes and bravely ploughed on.  
“Is there, I mean, do you like someone or something?”  
Foldo avoided his gaze in a highly suspicious way. He neither confirmed nor denied it.  
Jussipo let his fingers wander to the shell in his pocket, still safely wrapped in the handkerchief. He tried to keep his tone light, missing by a mile.  
“You _do_ , don’t you?”  
Foldo fleetingly looked at him before concentrating on a loose thread on his sleeve. A weird cocktail of emotions brew inside Jussipo, one of them, he knew, was hope. He squashed it down before it would made him do rash things.  
“I’ve never seen you show interest in anyone before. Who is it?” he asked carefully.  
“No one.”  
Jussipo looked at him in disbelief until he continued.  
“No one you’d know.” Foldo relented.  
“Oh.” Jussipo tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Alright.”

He took some time to search for appropriate words.

“Whoever they are,” he said eventually, “I’m sure you won’t get the marriage Klaas’ mom so feared.”  
Foldo ceased picking on the thread and grew very still.  
“There is no question of marriage yet.” he said.  
“Good.” said Jussipo.

Foldo’s head shot up. Jussipo looked at him with wide eyes.  
In a hurry to correct his mistake he explained: “You’re far too young for that kind of thing.”  
To which Foldo gave him an amused and rather blinding smile.  
“Yes, I think I am.” he answered.

Feeling uncomfortable, Jussipo stretched his arms out over his head and yawned theatrically.  
“I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I’m dead on my feet. Goodnight.”  
He barely waited for a response and retreated to a spot a little further away, where he lay down with his back to Foldo.

It was a while longer before Jussipo fell asleep, however. He was kept awake by the image of fair dames, dreamingly staring out of their windows, longing for Foldo to return home.  
What a foolish sight, he thought, no one would truly act that dramatic.  
Still, he couldn’t shake the image, and it was several hours later till sleep finally took him. All the while he kept his hand tightly clasped around the shell in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I love miscommunication. I _am_ miscommunication.


	14. He's a goner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii  
> It's been a long time, whoops... I'm sorry!  
> I was ridiculously busy and had to go through some mental health shit. I hope to start updating at more regular intervals again!

To Jussipo it felt as if he’d closed his eyes mere seconds ago when he was roughly shaken awake again.  
He felt groggy, his brain misted over by the lack of sleep, but his alertness soon resurfaced by the heart attack inducing sight he was greeted with.

Namely, Arman’s face inches from his own.

Jussipo startled backwards, realized there was no space to do so and hastily flipped over. His efforts got him a face full of damp soil, which, with his luck, was probably crawling with woodlice.

It couldn’t be time for them to leave already. The light was dim, the sunrays only just peeking over the horizon. The fire hadn’t even died out yet. The semi-darkness accentuated Arman’s grim expression, a shadow shifting over his face every time Iona paced by.

“He’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?” Jussipo asked as he sleepily wiped his face dry.  
He looked around for Piak and found him standing by the dying fire, observing them. With his arms crossed like that he seemed every bit as strict as their father. Piak’s severity soon gave way to silliness however, when he went cross-eyed and had to swat a bug that landed on his nose.

Arman regained Jussipo’s attention. With a raised eyebrow he gestured to the tree they had bound Tiuri to.  
The spot was indeed empty. The ropes lay in a heap on the ground, though the gag was nowhere in sight. Jussipo wondered in what kind of situation you wouldn't pull it out first thing your hands were free.

“Why didn’t we keep watch?”  
It didn’t appear as if Iona aimed the question at anyone in particular. She could have just as easily been talking to herself, but Arman answered anyway, “We’re in the middle of nowhere Iona! He couldn’t-”  
“I did.” Piak piped up.

At this the group erupted into chaos.

“You did?” Jussipo asked incredulously, now fully awake.  
“You can’t do it alone! You’ll fall asleep.” said Arman.  
“That’s hardly my fault, is it? If no one else has the good sense to do it.”  
“And…?” Iona urged him. “Did you see anything?”  
“Hang on,” said Jussipo. “You kept watch, by yourself, the whole night?!”  
Piak shrugged. “Not the whole night. And it was kind of boring actually. And then Foldo woke up and said he’d take over, so I fell asleep.”

All eyes turned to Foldo, who had, up until now, been quietly rummaging through his bag.

The shocked silence that followed was promptly broken when Arman marched up to him.  
“I knew it!” he raved. “Did I not say he was acting suspiciously!”  
“No you didn’t.” Jussipo muttered.  
Arman menacingly bundled up Foldo’s collar in his fist and attempted to pull him up. Foldo just stared at it, nonplussed, and stayed seated.  
Arman refused to let this make him lose his momentum.   
“Tell us where Tiuri is.” he demanded.

Iona let out a loud sigh and resumed pacing around the tree in order to take in details. She was getting truly marvellous at ignoring them.  
Jussipo could do no such thing. He didn’t want to. He pulled a face at Piak and hurried over to Foldo, who by the looks of it hadn’t provided Arman with a sufficient answer.

“Arman, don’t be ridiculous.” said Jussipo, “Foldo would never do something like that.”  
Foldo caught Jussipo’s eye and shook his head almost imperceptibly, hopefully to ensure him that he, indeed, would not.  
“How else can you explain that he was awake the exact same moment that Tiuri disappeared?” said Arman.  
“ _How_ ,” Jussipo started. He rubbed a hand over his face, wisely deciding not to finish that sentence. “Firstly, you can’t possibly know at what time Tiuri disappeared. Secondly, I was awake as well and can confirm he has nothing to do with this.”  
Arman narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you admitting to being his accomplice?”  
“That’s literally the opposite of what I said.” said Jussipo.  
“You were thinking it.” Arman replied swiftly. “Don’t think I can’t see the two of you planning our demise, with all those whispered conversations.”  
“I can’t believe it.”  
“Can’t believe that I’ve caught you? Maybe it’s something you can’t understand, but I’m a highly observa-”  
“What I can’t believe is that someone can be this obtuse! Have you ever heard of this lovely concept called _friendship_?”

From her spot by the tree Iona rolled her eyes and bend over to inspect a pile of soil. This appeared to be the last piece of evidence she needed to come to a conclusion, as she straightened herself and glanced around in the same highly alert way she had the evening before.  
“He did have help.” she said.

Arman stepped away from Foldo and pulled up his chin haughtily. “I demand we search his belongings.”  
“We’re not accusing Foldo, are we?” Piak asked. “I mean, it’s _Foldo_.”  
Jussipo crossed his arms. “No, we’re not.” he said. “Arman, I see no use in searching his belongings. What do you expect to find, that he’s put Tiuri in his bag?”  
“He’s stayed awfully quiet, hasn’t he.” said Arman. “You,” he turned back to Foldo with a glare and a raised finger. “have got something to hide.”  
Foldo shook his head slowly, a sad expression taking over his features. “I’m sorry that you feel like you can’t trust me.”  
“Acting like a kicked puppy is not going to help you.”  
“God’s nails.” Iona threw a piece of rope at Arman to get their attention. “I’m saying someone’s been waiting to take him ever since we captured him.”  
“Yes, I’ve been trying to tell you. Him!” said Arman quite dramatically, while he squatted down by one of Foldo’s bags. “He is pure evil!”

The statement was slightly ruined by the fact that the first thing he pulled out was a carved piece of wood in the shape of a very small, and admittedly cute, horse.

“I thought I had scared them off,” said Iona, making brief eye contact with Jussipo and gritting her teeth. “but then I got carried away. I should have known they followed us.”  
“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Foldo tried to reassure her. “We all bear the responsibility.”  
Iona balled her hands into fists.  
“I know.” she said accusingly. “So why didn’t you say you were going to stand guard?”

“Ha!” Arman called. “And how do you explain _this_.”  
He emerged from his search with a piece of cloth and a rope, which he held up victoriously.

Piak ran over and plucked it from his fingers.  
“It _is_ Tiuri’s gag.” he declared after some examination.

Everyone stared at Foldo, who furrowed his brow.

“It’s not what you think.” he said hurriedly. His gaze flitted over them all before coming to rest on Jussipo. “Really.”  
Piak tossed the cloth over to Jussipo. He eyed it warily, it really looked to be the same cloth.   
“How do you explain it was in your bag?” Piak asked, though probably more out of curiosity than anything else.

Foldo looked down in embarrassment, to the ants and flies who were busily swarming up the forest ground.

“Foldo,” Jussipo began.  
“I had to!” his gaze swept up again and he looked at Jussipo pleadingly. “What if he had suffocated?”

Just like that, the tension, which had unconsciously built up in Jussipo’s shoulders, left his body.

“People have nostrils, you know.” he told him, more than a bit amused.  
“What if he had caught a cold overnight, and he couldn’t alert us because everyone was sleeping?”  
Jussipo opened his mouth to reply, but Iona beat him to it.  
“So what.” she said. “Easier to take him with us if he was dead. This, for one, wouldn’t have happened.”

And with that remark the tensity returned to their usual, bickering level.

Arman was still determined to prove his point.  
“So after that, you decided his ropes were a bit uncomfortable and you set him loose, did you?”  
“No, I did not.”  
“I don’t believe you.”  
Piak crossed his arms and gave Foldo a once-over.  
“I do.” he said.  
“Let’s hold a bloody vote about it, why don’t we!” Arman called out. “Iona just told us he had help.”  
“By people from the outside, you idiot!” Jussipo exclaimed.  
“Probably just one person by the looks of it.” said Iona.  
“Must be that Lavinia girl.” Piak pondered.

“What?” he asked when he saw everybody was looking at him. “When we walked up the slope he couldn’t stop talking about her. That, plus some ring he’d been given as proof for the black knight’s brother. Which reminds me, why didn’t we search through his stuff? Seriously, what kind of knights are you?”

“Enough you little rat.” Iona grumbled.  
Jussipo glared at her, Piak only stuck out his tongue.  
“Of course I’ve searched him, but it’s gone now.” she said. “He wasn’t so stupid as to leave his stuff behind when he escaped.”  
Foldo straightened in indignation.  
“You mean to say,” he said, “you’ve _seen_ the black knight’s signet ring and you still wanted to take him to sir Fantumar? Why didn’t you tell us?”  
“What would it matter? We have our orders. There was no encased letter, if you’re dying to know.”  
“He could’ve stolen the ring from the black knight after he killed him.” Arman remarked.  
Foldo looked between them and grimaced, the expression sat ugly on his usually gentle face.  
“You shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe this Lavinia person has it, or he lost the letter and stumbled upon us while looking for it!”  
“That’s rich coming from you. Your conviction he’s telling the truth is equally based on nothing.” said Arman. “It’s like you don’t even want to succeed.”  
Foldo squared his shoulders and looked him in the eye determinately. “Not if it’s done in the wrong way, for the wrong reasons, no.”

Arman, seeing there was no reasoning with Foldo, kicked the bag closest to him in anger, scattering its contents all over the place with a clinking sound. Iona raised an eyebrow and fixed him with an unimpressed stare.  
“You better clean that up.”  
Arman glowered at her. “Or what?”  
She took a menacing step closer. “Or I’ll shut your whiny mouth for good.”

“The next time we capture Tiuri, we just wait till those two fight.” Jussipo told Foldo while they watched the two of them argue. He also kept an eye on Piak, who was surveying the contents of Iona’s bag with interest. “We’ll have plenty of time to ask questions.”  
Foldo looked at him with a twinkle in his eyes.  
“Or we help him.” he rubbed his hands together in either nervousness or excitement. “Jussipo, I spoke him w-”  
They were interrupted by Piak, who had moved on from Iona’s bag and just finished examining Arman’s.   
“Iona, Arman!” he said loudly enough to break up the squabbling. “Where are your coins?”

And of course, that was when it started to rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luv u all, thanks for reading

**Author's Note:**

> This is a oneshot I wrote because I wanted to practice writing. I've never let anyone read my work. But it's quarantine time, so what's stopping me.  
> I'm planning on more chapters. I'll figure it out as I go along.  
> Thanks for reading!


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